Touching a Naked Flame
by SporadicWriter
Summary: What's three years, when you live with a stubborn alien warrior who's bent on becoming an unstoppable and indestructable power? First story so be nice...but brutal honesty is always accepted!
1. Painful Beginnings

A/N - Hello - This is just my take on the 'three year' gap between Frieza and the androids.

Looking back through this story, I can see quite clearly how many niggly mistakes there are with grammar, tense, spelling AND SO ON.

It's embarrassing, OK? *sniffle*

I'll try and clean it up myself but I have LOAAADSSS of uni work to do; so in the mean time, I send you my condolences for what you're about to read!

This chapter has been Beta read by Teldra :)

Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy.

* * *

><p><span>Touching a Naked Flame<span>

Chapter 1  
><span>Painful Beginnings<span>

* * *

><p>Bulma was sitting on the floor, adjacent to the full length mirror in her room, cursing to herself as she attempted to pluck a stubborn stray hair from her eyebrow. She enjoyed putting effort into her appearance, not that she needed to. Heck, her eyebrows didn't even need shaping, she'd only had them done a couple of days prior, but she was utterly convinced that the fiendish hairs were growing back already.<p>

The truth was, she was doing anything to keep away from her own thoughts; desperately needing a distraction. Her mind was all over the place recently. She couldn't put her finger on it but, what she_ did _know was she wasn't happy and she was _extremely_ bored. Ever since the announcement of the androids, all her friends were too busy training and Chichi simply had too much on her plate with Goku, Gohan _and _Piccolo. Bulma cringed at the thought of the 'Chichi method' of discipline.

Sure, she did have Yamcha but things just weren't the same as they used to be. She was, well...Bored. The same routine: go out to eat somewhere fancy, go catch a movie, and go back to his place where they would spend hours on end 'making love. Because frankly, they had nothing else to do. She wasn't sixteen anymore, but she wasn't entirely ready to settle down. If her time with Yamcha was how a decent relationship was supposed to be, then she felt obliged to take a step back and reflect.

Was this really what she wanted in life?

She stopped plucking and absentmindedly glanced around the room until her eyes settled upon the glass vase on her dressing table. It had a bunch of rather wilted and clearly neglected red roses in it, and a label attached to one reading 'To B, my girl always. Love Yamcha.' A deep sigh escaped her lips.

What was wrong with this picture? He was her first love.

_Was_.

Maybe that's as far as it goes. Was it supposed to be like this? Surely it wasn't.

Suddenly, a violent vibration in Bulma's pocket startled her causing her to jump and instantly fumble around until she produced her phone. It was a call from Yamcha - again. Staring at the flashing screen, she sighed again and her eyes began to glaze over until the call ceased, allowing her to loosen her shoulders and relax again. It wasn't like she was purposely ignoring him. It had been a stressful day with Vegeta constantly complaining about the most trivial things, and Yamcha endlessly calling her. She had just grown irrevocably tired. No amount of coffee could cure this lethargy. Not only was she physically tired, she was mentally exhausted. She stared at the tiny phone in her hands and calmly watched the screen fade to black.

A sudden violent quake threw Bulma off balance and onto her hands and knees, launching her phone into the wall in the process. Before she could stand up and compose herself, she winced as the strong, putrid smell of burning plastic filled the room. Gagging uncontrollably, Bulma whisked up her phone from the floor and ran out to the balcony for some sweet oxygen. Her mind was irrational at this point, gasping for clean air which she couldn't find. She almost threw herself over the railing, her eyes widening when she followed the thick trail of smoke from the top to the bottom. Scanning the area, she found what she was looking for. The catalyst. The almighty prince. The asshole, more like.

Bulma took a step back, cocked an eyebrow and stared at the man beneath her in disbelief. Why was he just standing there? Did he enjoy blowing things up...? Okay, stupid question.

Vegeta was standing proudly, his arms across his chest and a...smirk? Bulma forcefully tore her eyes away from him to take a look at the growing destruction and the looming smoke. That's the third time this month he'd blown up the training capsule. It was getting way out of hand. She focused her attention back to the smug Saiyan, still standing amongst the wreckage; only this time their eyes met. She stared at him; perplexed before realising she _should_ be extremely angry at this point. Her blue eyes began to water against his dark, emotionless ones and she began to realise that the staring contest was becoming too intense, so again, Bulma ripped her eyes away from him before they imploded. She clasped tightly on to her mobile and tried dangerously hard to suppress her rage; only to realize it was useless. Whatever this man was doing, he was treading way too close to the point of no return; he was on her list.

"WHAT?" she bellowed, shaking as she glared furiously at the cocky prince.

He remained still for a fraction of a second, seriously wondering if she was actually using that kind of tone towards him, before he blinked back into focus, turned around and sent her his most deadly frown to date.

Bulma rolled her eyes, hating the way he assumed she wasn't worth replying to. Well, if she wasn't worth speaking to, then he wasn't worth wasting any more time over, so she turned on her heel, only to freeze in shock when she heard a gruff voice from below.

"Do something useful," he spat, causing her to stop and look back down at him. Damn wench thinks she can turn her back on him. "Fix me a new ship!" he remarked with a sly grin on his face. That ought to piss her off.

Bulma gawked. She was definitely not in the mood for him at the moment, or any moment for that matter. What the hell was this guy's problem? Without thinking she began to unleash the fury that was bubbling inside her, instantly lifting her hand up and launching her phone down at him; hitting him directly in the face.

Score! She did a small fist pump into the air, before making the decision to make an exceptionally quick exit.

Before he could react, she swivelled around and stormed back into her room.

He couldn't help but momentarily smirk at her pathetic efforts to inflict pain. When reality inevitably crept up on him, he frowned deeply, contemplating his future actions. How dare such a waste of life try to _attack _the prince of all Saiyans!

He balled his fists tightly, thinking about going after her and showing her what pain really feels like, before he heard a strange vibrating noise coming from below him, earning a slight wince from the prince. He glanced at the ground to see the woman's pathetic choice of weapon glowing on the floor. Before any immediate or rational thoughts could enter his mind, he picked up the object and held it in the palm of his hand; inspecting it closely. He frowned at the glowing screen, noticing the 'Incoming Call Yamacha' flashing repeatedly.

Damn weakling.

There was only one thing to do with the strange device; destroy it.

So he scoffed and neatly placed the object - what he assumed was some sort of communication device - on the floor. Without any hesitation he lifted his foot and placed it over the glowing object before crushing it firmly into the ground. The crunch - similar to the sound of human bones shattering - was more than satisfying to his ears.

Vegeta didn't have time to reflect on his recent achievement, as he was immediately broken out of his mental gloating by a piercing scream. He winced as he searched for the cause of the noise when his eyes, regrettably, landed on the woman's' insane mother, running over to him with a terrified look across her face.

Dislike wasn't a strong enough emotion for this woman...No, hate was much more fitting for this particular creature and her complete stupidity. So he decided to remain silent as she made her way over to his side. The only thing running through his mind was the formulation of an escape plan, but he was no coward, and so, forced himself to stay rooted to the floor.

As the blonde woman made her way beside him, his male perfection partially distracted her from the mass of smoke which was practically eating up the lawn. Trying to focus on the more important matter, Bunny's eyes widened in horror and she clasped her hand over her mouth in a panic.

"Did _you _do this, Vegeta?" She exclaimed before removing her hand away from her mouth and closing her eyes again.

He ignored her, remaining silent and continued to stare at the smoke covering the sky. The thought of a human being creating such destruction was preposterous.

He grunted in response, crossing his arms tightly and edging away a touch.

"Gosh! You're a strong boy, aren't you?" she screeched, placing a hand around his bare bicep causing him to flinch in horror and pull his arm from under her lecherous grasp.

What a disgraceful human!

He had to get away from her immediately.

"Hmph. Get it fixed. I need to continue my training," he ordered. He'll be damned if he can't reach the level of a Super Saiyan, when a third class dog such as Kakarot can do it! On that note he took to the sky, creating a huge gust of wind which sent Bunny landing on her backside.

Later that day, Bulma returned to the mess that was her room. Absentmindedly, she glanced around and past the broken vase and roses which were strewn across the floor. She sighed and carefully stepped over the disaster and to enter her own private bathroom. Just the thought of a steaming bath was relieving all the stress from the day's events. Relaxation didn't seem to come very easy for Bulma Briefs; she was always stressed even when nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Sure, there was the destructive, violent and aggressive alien living in her house and sure, she didn't know whether or not she loved her boyfriend anymore but other than that her life was pretty much the same. Lazily, she turned on the taps, then reached over the side to grab her favourite coconut bubble bath and poured more than the recommended amount into the shallow water.

Her bath would take about ten minutes to fill, so she wandered out onto the balcony; propping her elbows on the railing and watching the sun sinking behind the buildings. When Bulma looked out onto the lawn, she saw the burnt patch on the grass that indicated where the gravity capsule used to be. Bunny must have called someone in to clear that up, there was no way she could have tackled that mess on her own - no matter how much she would have liked to.

Bulma glanced up at the orange and purple sky and became entranced with the silver clouds, swirling and interlocking into different shapes. One of them always managed to look like Goku, which made her smile a bit. As the wind became cooler and delicately tickled her bare skin, Bulma shuddered and wrapped her arms across her chest. Something about the cool air made her feel completely alone and, funnily enough, that's exactly what she wanted. She wanted to feel free, but even though she didn't see Yamcha very often, she knew that he'd call and want to come over everyday, bordering on harassment. No, it wasn't that bad, but just the little things he would do were becoming irritating to her.

She walked back inside and headed for her bath. The intoxicating smell of coconut drew her in as she ripped her clothes off and dived in. As she soaked blissfully in the scented water, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. She remembered how she first met Yamcha and how excited she had been to be involved with a 'bad boy,' but that soon faded and now she felt like she was the strong one in the relationship. Yeah, he may have taken her out and bought her things but she didn't want materialism; she already had all of that. Yamcha was growing needy and attached – like a child. The spark between them just...died. Bulma's head began to ache from all the confusion, and slowly, she started to drift in and out of consciousness.

She awoke instantly from the sound of a door slamming nearby. The water was cold as she sloshed about in it. Raising her hands to her face and seeing that her fingers looked like raisins, she came to the conclusion it was time to get out. Without thinking, she jumped out of the bath, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body; then grabbed an elastic and scrunched her damp hair up in to a loose pony tail. Understanding that the sound had been made by a certain angry Saiyan, Bulma sighed and sauntered into her room.

A door slammed again. This time it was much closer. Bulma winced at the loud noise, and instinctively grasped on to her towel. Does he not have respect for anyone but himself, she thought. She entered her room and grabbed the first item of clothing she could find, throwing the large pink t-shirt over her head and heading for the door to check out what was going on out there. Slowly, she cracked the door open and looked down the dark corridor and noticed a faint light at the end. Looking down towards the end of the corridor, she was able to make out the shadow of a spiky haired Saiyan on the wall opposite, standing straight and beginning to remove his clothes. The shadow was more than enough to notice each part of his body including his extremely large…

Bulma instantly shut the door and turned around, her back pressed against the door. She was completely shocked by what she had witnessed and slightly ashamed that she had looked at him longer than a second. Even a point of a second was too long!

She felt disgusted with herself as she made her way to the edge of her bed. As she grabbed the corner of the bed sheets she shook her head and smiled. "Who would have thought," she whispered to herself as her smile decreased slowly.

Just before she could lift one leg up to get into bed, an unnecessarily loud knocking on her bedroom door stopped her. She hesitated for a moment because she knew who it was. He couldn't have seen her could he? Oh God, no...Slowly, she inched over to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked sheepishly, as she gingerly placed her hand on the doorknob.

Of course she got no reply, so she huffed and proceeded to turn the handle. That was until the door flew open, smacking her in the face and sending her to the floor. The pain grew relentlessly around her face as red hot heat consumed her nose. She stifled a scream of pain with her palm. With her eyes closed and her nose pulsating, Bulma slowly removed her hand, opened one eye and sighed in relief at the complete lack of blood. Thank God for that. She leaned back a bit, ignoring the real problem.

Suddenly the light switched on, revealing an angry Vegeta standing in the door way, arms across his bare chest and wearing nothing but a pair of white boxer shorts. Bulma squinted as she tried to focus on the image in front of her. That's when the anger struck.

"You idiot! You could have broken my nose!" she yelled, touching her nose again just to confirm there wasn't any serious damage.

Vegeta merely stared at her in the eyes and scowled, gaining a look of uncertainty from Bulma as she shakily got to her feet again.

Why did he just stare like that?

"What do you want anyway, Vegeta?" she questioned calmly as she imitated his pose.

He remained silent for a moment while he looked her up and down in disgust, noting the lack of pants.

"What are you wearing, woman?" he cocked an eyebrow as he took in her slender figure. Almost instantly, he mentally chastised himself for the completely disgusting thought. She can't seriously want to walk around the house with nothing but a top on, exposing her underwear like that?

Catching on to his severe scrutiny, Bulma looked down at what she was wearing and found nothing out of the ordinary. Why was he asking her this? Besides, she can wear what she damn well pleases to in her own house! What's it to him? The jerk.

She looked back up at him before speaking. "I was about to go to sleep and I certainly wasn't expecting visitors," she said matter-of-factly and then turned her head away from him in the hopes that he'd get bored and walk away.

But he didn't. He just stared.

He shrugged casually, trying to focus on the more important issue.

"If I don't have some sort of training facility by tomorrow night, it'll be on your head woman," he ordered as he extended a clenched fist in her direction.

She laughed in disbelief as she looked at his fist. When the room grew silent and Vegeta's fist was still in her face, she realised that he was trying to give her something. Shyly, she walked closer to him and held out a reluctant palm. She was bewildered when he dropped shattered pieces of plastic into her hand.

"Wha...?" She was cut off before she could ask what the hell this was all about.

"Whatever has happened between you and that idiot will _not _get in the way of my training!" he stared at her crystal blue eyes, looking for a reaction. Bulma bit her tongue and clenched the pieces of plastic when she realised that they were what was left of her phone. Vegeta quickly turned on his heel and headed for the door. Before reaching the doorway, he turned his head to the side.

"Now get to work," he smirked.

Then he was gone.

Bulma bit hard on her bottom lip, trying her best not to scream. She felt the anger bubbling as she stood there, stupidly allowing him to just walk away from her. She brought herself back down to reality and rushed over to the door; slammed it shut and threw the pieces of plastic in the trash. No way would she bow down to _any _of his commands. This means war!

At least it would give her something to do...


	2. A New Page

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 2  
><span>A New Page<span>

* * *

><p>"700G" <em>That should do, right?<em>

Bulma glanced at her watch which indicated it was about time she got some food. She'd been working with her dad all week trying to create a new gravity simulator for Vegeta to train in. This time she decided to build it inside the Capsule Corp building so he'd be contained within thick titanium walls. The entire room was sound proof, which was a complete necessity and the simulator was capable of withstanding 700G. Bulma was a little bit uneasy about the thought of anyone training under such pressure and maybe she was just a tiny bit concerned about Vegeta; but the whole room was safe and if he attempted a similar stunt from last week, then the system would override and shut down completely. She snickered to herself, _try_ _blowing that one up, monkey_ _man!_

Her dad patted her softly on the back, "Well done, Bulma. You've triumphed again!" He twitched his mustache.

She giggled softly and shrugged casually, then walked over to the exit and threw her lab jacket over her shoulder. The news was of her victory was all too familiar, so she turned around to grin at her father. "I know, Dad", she said self-righteously before walking out the new GR and in to the corridor.

Half way down the corridor she stopped and wondered if she could possibly be any more amazing. _Probably not_. With that thought in mind she skipped famously down the hallway and in to the kitchen to find her mother sitting at the breakfast bar, reading a cooking magazine.

Her head snapped up at her daughter immediately and she grinned inanely before speaking."Oh hi, dear! Have you and your father finished working now? I bet you're starving! Shall I make you something to eat? What would you like?" Mrs. Briefs got up from her chair as she babbled on.

Bulma stopped in the centre of the kitchen and stared at her mother in disbelief, wondering why she was even more happier than usual.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, Bunny continued on.

"Oh my! I almost forgot. Yamcha called. He wants to speak to you, said it was _really _important...such a nice boy. Always concerned about you!"she trailed off into a slight giggle before she started rummaging through the fridge again.

Bulma sighed and thought she may as well get it out the way now rather than let it linger in her mind. He probably wanted to take her out on a date or something of the sort, but she'd been way too busy with the new gravity room that she'd completely forgotten she even had a boyfriend. That must be sign, right?

She trudged back into the hallway and picked up the phone on the wall. Yamcha's number was on speed dial so the phone call was no hassle, and then she waited impatiently as it rang. As she was about to put it down, she heard a rather worn-down voice on the other end.

"Hello...Yamcha?" Bulma said, confused.

There was a brief moment of silence before Yamcha came to his senses.

"Oh hi, babe! I called before. Wanted to know if we could meet up or something later?" He said enthusiastically, making Bulma's heart twinge.

Bulma thought he might ask this and it took her a few seconds to decide whether or not she wanted to see him. Then it hit her; maybe the reason why he had been so persistent with his calls was because he also wanted to talk about their relationship. Of course! Her head felt a little less heavy once she considered this theory.

"Bulma...?" He called her name, snapping her out of her reverie.

His voice was starting to become irritating so she chose to answer quickly."Yeah sure." It wasn't as convincing as she'd hoped but it was enough for Yamcha.

"Awesome! I'll come over later?" He sounded truly sincere which worried her.

"Yeah. I'll see you later," she said as convincingly as possible. As she placed the phone down she couldn't help but feel a heaviness in her heart. It was going to happen someday, no point in remaining in an unhappy relationship...Well, for her at least. According to Yamcha, she was the love of his life and they were simply made for each other. She, on the other hand, thought differently.

Yamcha arrived later than she had hoped but it gave her time to prepare what she was going to say. He looked as handsome as ever, wearing a loose fitting yellow shirt and dark blue jeans. Of course, there was no doubt he was attractive or she wouldn't have begun dating him so soon but it seemed Yamcha's looks were the only thing that remained the same. He had become too clingy and overly affectionate the majority of the time, not the boy she remembered from her early adventures with Goku. She smiled at the memories and then frowned at the many shameful ones on her part.

They both sat on the sofa in the sitting room and that's when the awkwardness began to make itself known. Bulma watched as Yamcha twiddled his thumbs and looked at the floor. He had a look of guilt on his face which sent needles through Bulma's heart. She sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. They both remained silent but knew words were imminent. It seemed that the situation between them was completely understandable on both parts, otherwise there wouldn't be the stupid uncomfortable atmosphere.

"This feels a bit strange, huh?" the blue haired heiress spoke faintly but in a light hearted tone, which would hopefully prompt him to speak. They remained silent for a moment until Yamcha lifted his head to look into her eyes.

"What happened to us, B? I mean, we barely even _touch_ anymore." He almost choked on the words, looking deeply into her eyes and hoping that she would deny his accusations and leap in to his arms. He hadn't come to break up with Bulma, but he did want to know why she was being extremely distant with him all of a sudden. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening in their relationship. It wasn't like he had cheated on her or anything and he trusted her well enough to know that she hadn't done anything either. So what was the problem then?

Bulma became overwhelmed with sadness as the words he spoke were true. She knew they had drifted apart over the last few months but there was no obvious reason as to why. Yes, she loved him, or atleast she thought she did, but something just wasn't right; she just wasn't in it anymore and judging by his reaction, the feeling was mutual. She took a deep breath and forcefully held her tears at bay.

"I can't explain it and I hate feeling this way but it's not the same anymore. I think it'll be positive for both of us if we were friends," she stated, gritting her teeth.

She hated how cliché and predictable the whole speech was but she didn't think it would hit her this hard. He stayed for a while and they spoke about the past and all the great times they had together. It became more apparent that things _had_ in fact gone somewhat wrong between the two of them. It may have been possible that they were drifting apart ever since they got back together. She didn't really know. There was just a dull feeling in her when he was around and she tried hard to tell herself that she was just being silly but she couldn't shake it off.

He pulled his hand away from hers but continued to stare deep into her blue eyes. She concluded that he definitely felt the same and was completely surprised when a tiny smile slowly emerged across Yamcha's face; she returned the gesture and threw herself into his arms before whispering "I'm sorry," while burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He was slightly stunned by her immediate reaction but it was Bulma and she was always full of surprises. The room was almost silent as the pendulum on the clock at the back wall swung back and forth. Bulma tore herself away from Yamcha and he wiped the tears from her face. They both smiled at each other sincerely and Yamcha got up from the sofa.

For a moment Bulma wanted him to sit back down and stay longer but she had made her decision and needed to be strong by her choice. She followed him to the door silently and as he reached the door he turned round and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. This was his way of telling her goodbye.

In reality, Yamcha was far from okay with the situation. He only hoped that Bulma would change her mind and want him back, but something had to change in order to make it work between them.

Before Bulma could respond, he was gone. She couldn't help but feel deep regret but that would fade, right? She remained at the front door looking out on to the deserted lawn. There were no birds singing, no cars driving past, no hustle from the city. Only silence. She took a deep breath and shut the door, leaving Yamcha her boyfriend, in the past. The weight on her shoulders felt a bit lighter but she was in desperate need of relaxation and a hot chocolate; so she slowly made her way to the kitchen.

Bulma's hair was still a mess from working in the lab all day and she only had time to throw on a grey t-shirt and white shorts, which wasn't the most feminine thing she'd ever worn. There was no time for suitable shoes so a pair of flip flops sufficed. Basically, she looked and felt like a tramp.

As she entered the kitchen she felt a pair of eyes watching her every move and she could only guess who it was watching her. That creep really didn't know the meaning of personal space, even though he was half way across the room; it felt like he was in her face. He stepped closer to her with his arms folded across his chest, waiting for her to look at him. Bulma stopped half way across the kitchen before glaring at him and trying to get out whatever the hell it was he was trying say. Strangely, Vegeta seemed more pissed off than usual and there was slight look of desperation in his features but she huffed and continued towards the kettle, switching it on with a swift 'click', ignoring the Saiyan Prince.

_Is she going to continue this charade all night? This is ridiculous._ He sneered and cleared his throat loud enough for Bulma to twitch her head up at him. Damn woman, ignoring a prince. He didn't know why he hadn't blasted this woman already. Waste of space…"I need food and the older woman has gone to bed," he demanded as he stepped closer, again.

She couldn't help but smile at the desperation he tried to contain but he wasn't seriously expecting her to start cooking for him, was he? It must have been strange for Vegeta, the prince that he was, but she knew he had served under Frieza and evidently lived a life of hell. So she was strangely intrigued by how he had become so demanding.

"Oh, now that's too bad, Vegeta," she remarked with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice while she faced the wall, her back to him.

He stepped closer to her again and was now almost breathing down her neck. Bulma felt paralyzed for a moment before quickly shaking it off and reached over to grab a mug out of the cupboard. When she returned to where the kettle was..._was?_

She spun around and scanned the room.

"Vegeta. What have you done?" She looked down at the empty space where the kettle once was to see that the entire socket had been torn out of the wall. She searched around until her eyes met an obliterated kettle on the work surface. How did she not hear any of this? After shaking off her inquisitions she immediately felt the heat flow over her body as she burst into a fiery rage.

"What the _fuck_, Vegeta!" She stomped over to the far corner of the room, where he was now standing and pointed a sharp index finger into his chest but he remained unstirred with a sly smirk across his face. This woman thinks she can threaten him, the Prince of all Saiyans! He laughed a little.

"Woman, if I don't eat, _you_ certainly can't have the privilege either." He was undoubtedly somewhat enjoying this.

They stood inches apart but neither of them made any movements. Bulma was too tired for this battle so she decided to give in and let him have this one. She sighed and turned around and headed for the loaf of bread her mother had baked earlier. She cut several slices, stuck some cheese on them and shoved them in the grill while Vegeta remained silent. She could feel the sheer triumph just by glancing at his stupid face, noting that he again, forgot to put most of his clothes on. Upon such a realisation, she took the time to glance at all the scars on his well-toned chest and the faint blood stains across his stomach. He really did push himself too far sometimes but if that's what he wants to do then he can do it. She soon snapped back to focus, seeing the curious look on his face and she almost instantly blushed for no good reason.

He grunted impatiently, "Can you take your eyes of me for one second and get me my damn food?" Vegeta frowned and turned his head to the side. These earth women and their hormones; it's sickening.

She felt a blush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. Was she staring? No. She shook her head and took a peek at the grill. "It's not ready yet, Mr impatient!" She shouted.

She thought it would be best if she kept her eyes on the floor for the time being. _Gosh, single for two seconds and you're already looking at other men!_

Vegeta shuffled impatiently, listening to his stomach calling to him and his head telling him to crack on with his damn training. He'd never become a super Saiyan at this rate.

After five minutes of intense floor gazing, she handed him the plate of cheese on toast which was inevitably stacked a few feet high. With a sarcastic grin plastered across her face, she bowed and stepped a few foot backwards. "Here, your majesty. Enjoy."

Without looking at him she huffed and flicked her hair as she turned for the door way; quickening her pace with the desire of escape before she stopped to look back at him in surprise. He was sitting at the table staring at the plate in front of him with a look of disgust on his face.

He pushed the 'food' with his index finger, feeling the hard rubbery texture and seeing how black the toast was. There was no way in hell he was going to eat this shit. "Woman, I'm not eating _this_." He pushed the plate away and turned his head away from the unworthy food. The stuff didn't even look edible. Was she insane?

Bulma frowned and marched straight over to him regardless of how tired she was. She immediately grabbed the plate and threw the whole meal in the trash bin before heading for the door way again. Vegeta sat and watched in disbelief as the deluded woman stormed in and out the kitchen with impressive speed. He then realised she may not have been coming back to prepare him another meal. Who was going to feed him then?

She clearly didn't know who she was messing with. He immediately got to his feet and charged after her with even faster steps.

Pride in her steps and her heart pounding, Bulma almost ran for the stair case until she felt someone grab her tightly by the wrist and pull her back. Partially shaken, Bulma spun her head around and only to become face to face with an intensely angry Vegeta.

"I expect food, not filth!" He screamed in her face.

He was seriously pissed about this but she couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"What? Seriously? Get off me!" She remarked light heartedly while trying to yank her arm away. Yet his grip only became tighter and it actually started to burn.

_She has no idea. Challenging Prince Vegeta; what a pathetic human. There is no reason for me to tolerate such foolish behaviour. _He thought as he stared into her eyes, which were unusually mesmerising, but he soon shook that feeling off.

Then he saw a flash of fear and instantly loosened his grip and she yanked her arm away, rubbing it with her other hand. He was curious about her behaviour. How can the woman act so proud and attempt to hide her fear like that? Suddenly, Vegeta felt ashamed for hurting her. What the hell? He remained focused on her features and could see the irritation in her eyes.

There is no way any man would touch Bulma Briefs like that and get away with it! She lifted up her free hand and swiped it across his chiseled face before storming up the stairs. She was _not _in the mood for this. She needed to calm down and relax, not start a war! Even though she had already declared war upon Vegeta, but that didn't matter! When she reached her room she slammed the door shut, shuddering the door frame and she half expected him to come after her and kill her on the spot. Aftera few seconds of silence, she sighed in relief and jumped on her bed in defeat.

Vegeta stood at the bottom of the stair case contemplating a course of revenge as his blood boiled and he felt a slight tingle on his face where she had smacked him. Obviously it hadn't hurt him and he let her do it. But why? Clenching his fists in a mixture of anger and confusion, he lifted his foot up, ready to go up there and strangle the bitch to death.

This is unbelievable!

He inched closer to the first step before remembering the look in her eyes when he had grabbed her; the look of fear which he had thrived off in the past, but somehow, it had lost its' appeal. He shook his head and decided to unleash his anger upon the newly built GR. There was no point in wasting any more time on such a frivolous matter. Training was his only focus.

Nothing more**.**

He trudged away cursing quietly to himself.

Bulma awoke to the sun beating on her bare shoulders through the open window, slightly burning her porcelain skin. She had kicked the sheets off her bed after another restless sleep which was becoming a regular occurrence since she had broken up with Yamcha. She sat up and glanced around her bedroom, noticing the space on the dressing table were the vase of roses from Yamcha had been. A smile appeared on her face. This is what she wanted, but will she ever find anyone else? That didn't matter to the young vixen as of right now. All that was running through her mind was the free time she had to start working on some new inventions with her dad.

She slowly got up and grabbed a pair of purple shorts, and then threw them on and swiftly headed out the bedroom door. There was nothing but feigned happiness and grace in her steps as she skipped down the corridor, until she saw Mr. Doom and Gloom walking in her general hadn't seen Vegeta since last week when he thought it would be a great idea to grab her by the wrist; big mistake. Regardless, she continued on as if she hadn't seen him until he stopped directly in front of her causing her to collide with his chest, head first. She put her hand on her head and stepped back, blinking a few times and trying to rectify her vision before glaring at him and placing her hands on her hips.

"What now?" She questioned impatiently. There was no way he was going to ruin her day again. Not today.

Vegeta stood with an arched eyebrow and a huge smirk on his face. "I think you need to get to work, woman", and with one smooth side step he casually walked away from her down the corridor.

She stood bewildered for a moment before shaking her head.

He's a strange one, that was for sure_. _

With that out of her mind she focused on heading to the lab to see her dad. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she froze as a waft of smoke stung her nostrils. Following the smell, Bulma was becoming more and more anxious with the direction she was headed. She ran down the hall way until she saw it, or what was left of it. The newly built gravity room was overflowing with smoke and the toxic smell was becoming unbearable. Bulma charged in with full force to see the full damage. The control panel was completely destroyed and on fire. Although that seemed to be the extent of the damage, it was enough to cause Bulma fear.

Staring at the wreckage with wide eyes and watching as a few members of staff frantically tried to tackle the flames, Bulma felt a hand on her back. Her dad was standing beside her with an amused look on his face and a fire extinguisher in his right hand.

"I think we need to increase the pressure capacity," he said with a slight chuckle as he proceeded to put out the flames.

Bulma took a step back and watched helplessly as her father put out the fire; revealing the damage to her creation. A whole week worth of work destroyed.

She clenched her fists and looked over at her dad. "Hold on a sec' dad. I'll be right back," she said vindictively and practically ran out of the room. That low life, dirt, piece of shit. Who does he think he is? She paced through the corridor and up the stairs to where the royal prince was hiding. Sometimes she wondered why she ever had the compassion to allow that dick to stay in her home. Kami only knows. She must have been high that day or something.

Once she reached his bedroom door, she pounded the door, then waited a couple of seconds, before wondering why she was being so polite.

The only thing she could do was go inside, right? She knocked again but this time the door cracked open a few inches, but before walking in she looked around to check no one was watching then poked her head inside. The room was plain and dull; the walls were blue as were the sheets and carpet. Urgh_. _It was empty that's for sure. Curiosity got the best of her as she lifted her foot to continue in to the room. She only wanted to have a look around. As she placed her foot carefully in his room, feeling the spongy carpet beneath her feet, she felt heat behind her head - body heat. Wait what? She spun around and became face to face with Vegeta, again.

He really _didn't _know anything about personal space, did he? She mentally reminded herself.

These close encounters were becoming too regular for her liking.

For a second, Bulma became lost in his extremely masculine smell, forgetting what she was doing up there in the first place. _Oh, yeah. _Almost too quickly, she pointed a finger at his chest and at that moment noticed it was bare. She looked at where she placed her finger then snapped her head back up at his face. Hissing to herself for even looking. But hey, it didn't help the guy was flaunting it in her face all the time. And he was, literally in her face.

"You've got _some_ nerve, you know!" She shouted, her voice strained from the stress.

He scowled at her, while scrutinising the woman. She was practically naked, again. Did she have no respect for the eyes of others? Some people don't want to see her smooth, prefect, soft…Damn! He sneered, "What are you talking about, woman?" He shoved her out of his way so that he could breath.

Bulma was in denial that he was treating her like this and she forcefully continued her speech. "The control panel...You _blew_ it _up_!" She berated and tried to compose herself. As she began to calm down, she stepped back and crossed her arms, waiting for his reaction. Any reaction, in fact.

Vegeta turned to face her and shot her an evil glare complete with a tiny smirk."You clearly need to work harder instead of spending all your time with that weakling," a confident tone was apparent in his voice as he seemed to be enjoying annoying the hell out of her.

Again, he did wonder why he was even allowing her to talk to him in such a manner.

Bulma stared at him in disbelief. Her and Yamcha hadn't seen or spoken to each other in a whole week. What was he trying to prove? Even so, she wasn't ready to back down in this battle.

"What I do with _my_ life is none of your concern." She uncrossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow.

She felt pride take over as the words escaped her mouth; her entire form stood tall waiting for him to say something. All he could give her was a sigh as he walked further into his nearly empty room.

When seeing his back in her face, she felt more than obliged to stop him. _Oh no you don't, _she thought as she lunged forward and grabbed the top of his arm, feeling his moist skin between her fingers. Something about it felt quite nice.

Vegeta stood frozen still as he felt her skin against his, the heat from her hand on his arm. He shuddered a bit, not sure how to react to the physical contact from a female as attractive as her. Wait? Annoyed with himself, he gritted his teeth and almost flung the woman's arm off him, saving himself from any embarrassment.

"Don't touch me, woman!" How dare this filthy muddling touch him? How _dare _she?

Bulma had expected this sort of reaction from him but couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth. She rolled her eyes and looked at the disgust on his face, before remembering the seriousness of the situation and then refrained from laughing and replaced her smile with a frown. Despite the gravity room being destroyed, she felt slightly upbeat and had forgotten about her new found singleness. Funnily enough, it had been the most aggravating and sour man that had distracted her and gave her a bit of entertainment.

Stepping out of his room in casual defeat, she became lost in her thoughts. Then she heard and felt the door slam behind her and a few incoherent curses from within; something along the lines of 'stupid bitch'. For a second Bulma actually thought something indirectly positive had come from the mighty Prince of all Saiyans.

She huffed. "Vegeta, you arrogant jackass!" and trudged down the corridor.

Who was she kidding?


	3. Two Can Play That Game

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter three  
><span>Two Can Play That Game<span>

* * *

><p>Bulma twisted her finger through her hair, while jamming her teeth into her bottom lip. She had been on the phone with Chichi for only five minutes and was completely stressed.<p>

Goku's wife had called with the sole purpose to spread the news about Yamcha's new 'girlfriend', not considering the effects it would have on Bulma. In Chichi's mind, Bulma could handle anything, although this information proved to be quite delicate.

"So, um... What's she like? Have you seen her?" Bulma didn't know _why _she was interested or why she was bothered for that matter, the words simply jumped out of her mouth uncontrollably.

"Well. She's not the type of young lady I'd let my Gohan _ever_ date!" Chichi exclaimed before continuing. "She's, well...Very, voluptuous" She said in a whisper.

Bulma heard all she needed to get a clear picture of the woman in question. She couldn't help but force the lump that was forming in her throat back down. The tears were coming and her voice became distorted.

"Oh. Uh...Anyway, I've gotta' go Chichi. You know how busy it gets 'round here!"

Bulma trailed off into a plastic giggle and almost smashed the phone back down. She stood silent in the corridor and contemplated whether or not to cry.

_C'mon girl, you wanted to break up with him. Why is this such a shock to you? Nope, you're not gunna cry, no way...Oh no, you are!_

At that moment her face streamed with tears but she remained frozen still in the middle of the corridor. She threw her fist in to the wall and then screeched as the pain seared through her veins.

_Get a grip of yourself Bulma. This i_s _not how an independent woman should react!_

She blinked a few times before wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her cardigan and took a deep breath; ready to make her way in to the kitchen.

_I know a couple of guys who can cheer me up right now. Ben and Jerry._

Vegeta propelled forward and plummeted to the ground with a shuddering thud. He merely dodged one of his largest energy blasts and singed the skin on the back of his neck in the process. There was something wrong with his training recently, something was out of sync but he couldn't place it and the more he thought about it the worse his training became. His face was pressed against the floor, sweat dripping down his features. He fought hard against the gravity pressure (which was now increased to 800G), feeling every muscle quiver and shake violently. His arms felt like they could snap and the blood pressure around his face made him feel nauseous; he fell to the floor and let the gravity pressure crush his body.

The pain was unbelievable and yet there was something he enjoyed about it, maybe the more pain he could withstand, the more physical power he could control. Physical power was not bothering him as much; he knew he could control it no matter how much it increased but his mental control was proving to let him down. He couldn't block out the many thoughts whirling around his head over and over. Of course there was his violent past, the images of the people he ruthlessly murdered imprinted into his mind, his father's humiliation, the death of Frieza at the hands of the clown, Kakarot and the intricate fact that he could _not _reach the level of super Saiyan, no matter how hard he trained.

These thoughts always filled his mind but something else was playing against him and before he would continue to dwell upon it, he would eat. The pressure felt easier against his tense body as he unstuck himself from the floor, leaving sweat and blood smeared across the entire room. As he smacked the power button with the palm of his hand, he couldn't help but release a sigh of relief and let his shoulders slump.

_The older woman better have made me some food. I'm not in the mood for any unnecessary hassle today._

He slipped in to a looser pair of navy shorts before exiting the GR and make his way to the kitchen. He just wanted to eat, nothing more and nothing less. He didn't want conversation or any fussing, food was the only thing on his mind and he liked it that way. He was immediately disappointed as he entered the kitchen. Bulma was sitting at the breakfast bar, mindlessly spinning an apple around like a top and watching it blankly.

_Why does she have to be here...And what the hell is she doing?_

He stopped and folded his arms across his bare chest, watching her for a moment. She had grey bags under her eyes, black streaks down her face and her hair was extremely untidy. She looked a mess to say the least. He frowned as he remembered what he came in the kitchen for and did _not _want to become entangled in whatever situation she had gotten herself into. Frankly, it was none of his concern. Though this was different; the situation proved to produce a golden opportunity for him to ignite her temper.

He grinned and took a single step forward before speaking. "Woman", he spoke in a blunt tone which was loud enough for her to hear, yet she barely flinched let alone lift her head up to look at him.

_She can't seriously be attempting to ignore me?_

He tapped his foot rapidly for a few seconds before trying again.

"Woman!" he spat. This time he was successful as she quickly snapped her head up.

Her face looked pale and drained.

_What the hell is wrong with this woman? Humans are such pathetic creatures**.**_

"What?" She said, almost a whisper.

He stared at for a few seconds, a smirk present, before concocting a suitable answer.

"You look disgusting. Go and sort yourself out" he scoffed and made his way to the fridge.

_That should piss her off._

Bulma was _not _impressed with this comment, she found it completely pathetic and useless; he picked the wrong time the throw insults at her. She may have looked a mess but what was it to him, anyway? She couldn't always look perfect. With that in mind she picked the apple up from the table and lobbed it towards Vegeta; getting a direct hit at the back of his head. She really did have a pretty accurate aim.

The silence thickened the air as they both froze. Bulma couldn't help the joy she felt from inflicting pain on to someone else, it was as if she just threw her problems at Vegeta's head and now she felt alive again.

_What was I crying about again?_

She thought to herself as she bounced up from her seat. Vegeta on the other hand, wasn't feeling as cheerful as he slowly turned around; fire in his eyes. Before he could respond, she had disappeared and he was left alone in a pool of shame.

_Damn woman._

He would have gone after her but he was too hungry; food was more important than that stupid woman. He stomped his way to the fridge to find a family size lasagna Bunny had made earlier.

_This will suffice._

He had to curb his anger, he couldn't believe his plan backfired. Instead of the refreshing victory he yearned for, the woman, intolerable as ever, threw an apple at him.

She threw a fucking apple at him – the Prince of Saiyans!

And he let her.

He slumped in to a seat at the breakfast bar and placed his lasagne in front of him. He drove the fork into the cold lasagne but before it made its way to his mouth, he let out a small sigh.

_This is going to be a long day._

After training for eight hours straight, Vegeta decided to rest for the day and made his way to his quarters for a shower. His training was satisfactory and he felt as if the gravity needed to be tweaked to 900G, but he couldn't be bothered with the woman shouting at him for eternity because she has '_just_' upgraded it recently. His mind had cleared slightly, although he couldn't help but remember the woman's huge grin plastered across her face when she _thought _she had won their little game. A tiny morsel of humiliation formed in his body, the training helped his anger but her face kept repeating in his mind.

Damn her.

He slugged his way into his room and then into the shower room where he swiftly turned the water on to the highest temperature. His shorts were drenched in sweat as he slowly pealed them off his skin and kicked them into the corner of the room. He calmly stepped in the shower and barely flinched as the scorching water flooded over his bronzed skin. As he began to soothe into the heat, he placed his head in his hands and rubbed the sweat off his face; thoughts drowning his mind once again. The way she grinned like that, right in front of him.

_Had she no respect for royalty?_

"Pathetic" he mumbled to himself as he removed his hands from his face.

As the temperature soared and boiled his skin his thoughts expanded._ Her face._ He noticed the way her ocean blue eyes glistened, how the blush in her face returned when she smiled and how when her breathing increased with excitement, her breasts moved up and down in a rhythmic motion...

He immediately snapped back to focus and smacked his palm into the tiled wall. _This has to stop, _he thought to himself as he removed his hand from the wall. At that moment he placed his hand on the temperature dial and twisted it to the lowest temperature. The freezing cold water caused him to flinch and frown as the icy needles pierced his tired skin. It eventually cleared his mind and he stepped out of the shower to look at himself in the mirror.

He stared at his features blankly and let his body dry off naturally. He watched his damp hair slowly rise back to its original erect state and he stood there staring at his reflection for over thirty minutes. He was completely dry as he peeled his eyes away from his reflection and in the direction of his bed. He didn't wear any pyjamas as he didn't think it necessary and respected his sleep and privacy. He threw himself into his bed, pulled the covers over the lower half off his body and placed his arms behind his head; trying to shut off all his thoughts.

What was wrong with him recently? Why couldn't he focus? His mind should be focused on his training...Everything else was irrelevant. The image of his father's disappointed face haunted him every day and night. He couldn't let this happen - he wouldn't! He turned over so that his face was buried in his pillow, making it harder for him to breath. A soft breeze floated over his body from the window, caressing his bare skin and eventually sent him into a truly needed slumber.

The loud buzzing pierced his ear drums as he awoke abruptly. The clock read 6am; he had slept over four hours, which was good for him. He sat up straight, a fixed frown on his face and he roughly dragged his fingers through his thick mane. He had dreamt about her, the woman. It was quite graphic to say the least and judging by his bodies' reaction, it wasn't a bad dream at all. Nevertheless he was disgusted with himself and his lack of control over his own damn thoughts. Now she was creeping into his dreams? This was all so sudden for him. He had never seen her in a sexual way before now, sure she was attractive but she was just...words couldn't fit into how much of a disappointment of a specimen she was.

He lifted his head to face the ceiling and sighed into the clear air.

_Enough of this, _he thought thoroughly as he slid off the bed to find a fresh pair of shorts. He didn't want to shower, the more time he spent away from his training the more time his mind would wonder and he didn't need that. He tensed his body and then headed for the door. Leaving his thoughts behind.

It wasn't until 6pm when Vegeta exited the GR and the Briefs residence was surprisingly quiet. _Too_ quiet. He was completely drained and felt quite satisfied with his progression, the gravity pressure definitely needed to be upgraded. He would try and avoid her at all costs, but this was a necessity and he had no choice but to mind her eventually.

He trudged his way to the kitchen and peered around the door frame before stepping in. The kitchen was desolate and there was a faint sound of music coming from another room. He dismissed it and headed for the fridge for a drink, seeing as he hadn't eaten or drank for twelve hours and was exhausted. As he scanned the contents of the fridge, he noticed nothing of particular interest, causing him to roll his eyes in disappointment. The only thing he could see was a two litre bottle of milk and without delay he swiped it off the shelf, ripped the lid open and gulped half the contents.

He pulled his mouth away from the bottle to take a breath and he listened to the music from the other room increase in volume. He was immediately enraged, _any _noise at this point was painful to his ears. With that thought in mind he paced towards the direction from which the music was coming. As he stomped down the corridor the music became louder and more irritating, causing him to wince slightly.

He reached the end of the corridor which left only one sitting room to the left of him. He poked his head in the door way only to find Bulma sitting on a large beige sofa, reading a magazine with her back to him; clearly unaware of his presence.

_Why did she have to play that blasted music so loud?_

Then it hit him.

_Revenge!_

He remained in the doorway and mused at the half empty bottle of milk in his hand. A sly smirk grew across his face and he proceeded to step closer to her, each step was carefully placed as he crept slowly in her direction. The spongy carpet played in Vegeta's favour as he silently invaded. When he eventually made it directly behind her, he couldn't help but smell the sweet succor of victory in the air. He glanced at the bottle of milk and quickly but smoothly toppled the contents over her head, causing her to shriek. She immediately stood up and turned around to face him, red in her eyes as he saw the anger bubble inside her. _Success_, he thought as he stared back at her with a daring grin on his face.

She couldn't understand what had just happened but it _did_. The fact was, she almost had a heart attack and could feel the cool liquid soak down the front of her top and crawling over her head. As she stood there silently, staring down at her top, she couldn't process any words to say back to the smug monkey who had caused her to be in such a state. She lifted her head and stared back at his stupid grinned face. That's when he opened his mouth to say something.

"Woman, you look even worse than you did yester..." He paused half way through his sentence which confused her slightly.

She raised an eyebrow as she waited for his response; her hands now on her hips.

He felt his breath shorten as he looked at her soaked, bra-less chest. Her nipples became erect as the cold liquid covered her body and Vegeta wasn't prepared for this at all.

_Why did she have to wear such flimsy clothing?_

His mouth opened half way as his eyes remained on her soaked chest. Bulma was completely unaware until she followed his line of vision and immediately screeched and covered her practically bare chest with her arms. Before she could say anything, Vegeta had left the room; leaving her half exposed and soaking wet. She grasped the front of her t-shirt and pulled it towards her face to identify the liquid and as she sniffed she balked from the stale smell.

_Idiot. What was he thinking?_

Just as she was beginning to clear her mind from all thoughts, he comes swaggering in and does _this? _A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she released the material from her grip and proceeded to exit the room.

As she stepped out the room, she glanced all around checking to see if Vegeta was _hiding_ anywhere close.

_Silence._

She shrugged her shoulders and continued out into the long corridor, letting her mind wonder. A blush pulsed across her cheeks as she pictured Vegetas reaction when he realised how exposed she was,_ did he blush?_ She thought as she placed a hand to her cheek, then her eyes widened the more she thought about it.

_Oh Kami, am I seriously happy that Vegeta might find me sexually attractive? Of course he did!_

With that she proceeded up the stairs and in to her room, where her salvation laid...The shower!

The room was cool as she stepped in with a towel wrapped around her body. As she twisted her dripping hair to drain out the water, she couldn't help but smile a tiny bit after the day's events. She hadn't done much today, nothing too exciting anyway. A few plans had been drawn up for gravity upgrades because she knew it wouldn't be long before Vegeta would come to her and demand it.

She rolled her eyes and sighed at the thought as she rummaged through her pyjama drawer. Nothing particular caught her eyes so she grabbed a pair of pink shorts and a black vest. It was late September so it wasn't as warm anymore, but she always found it hard to sleep in larger pyjamas and felt sweaty and disgusting when she woke up.

Once she was dressed she ragged her hair up into a messy bun and slumped on to her bed with a thud. The clock indicated 2am, _sheesh_ she'd really lost track of time, and this was happening a lot lately. Her mind seemed to lose track once again as it produced her portrayal of Yamcha's new girlfriend. Bulma pictured her to be blonde, busty and pig thick, _yup that's Yamcha's type alright. _When they dated, she noticed his eyes wondering on several occasions to the busty blondes walking by, so this was no real surprise to her. That's when she noticed she silence filling the room and the corridor outside.

_Vegeta had finished his training already?_ She thought as she couldn't hear the GR buzzing in its' usual monotone drone.

_He must be sleeping, _she thought with a sly grin on her face. It was 2am after all. She blinked a few times as she stared blankly at the closets opposite her. Vegeta was in his bedroom and asleep and she was awake. She clenched her fists as she came up with a revenge plan, then she excitedly bounced up from her bed and darted into the bathroom.

Bottles and cups went flying across the bathroom as she rummaged through the bottom cupboard, looking for something particular. She re-emerged after a couple of minutes with a large jug in her hands and a huge grin slapped across her face. _Perfect_ she thought slyly as she headed for the sink. With one swift twist the cool water began to fill up the jug, _he thinks he can give Bulma Briefs a heart attack and get away with it_! She thought cunningly as she shook her head and held the jug under the tap.

She paced steadily out of the room and into the dark corridor, keeping a close eye on any overflowing water. As she shuffled her way towards his bedroom door she noticed it was already open, which unsettled her confidence. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath and edged her way in to his bedroom. It was quite dark but Vegeta slept with his curtains open so the moonlight lit up the room, _strange. _She could see his silhouette strewn across the bed with only the bottom half of his body covered by a thin, cream under laying sheet.

She giggled faintly as she shuffled towards him, grasping on to the jug of cold water. As she got closer she started to have second thoughts.

_He'll probably try and kill me and he'll probably succeed. What can he expect after pouring milk all over me for no reason! _

She made it to the foot of his bed and placed one hand on the cream sheet which was covering his body. With one swift flick of the wrist she whipped the sheet off.

At that moment she gawped and the jug of water fell out of hands crash landing to the floor; soaking her bare feet. Vegeta lay there, asleep and completely _naked_. She couldn't help but stare at it.

_Why does he have to sleep naked?_

She thought nervously as she continued to stare.

The blood rushed to her face and then all around her body, _Oh Kami..._she thought as the arousal filled her body. He continued to lie there in a deep slumber, unaware of her presence; his breathing rhythmic to her ears. She tore her eyes away from his crotch and looked at his perfect features to notice how relaxed and unusual he looked compared to his regular state. His face looked softer and there was no frown or scowl, he looked...peaceful.

Bulma realised she was being a pervert staring at him like this and her arousal was becoming uncontrollable; so she picked up the jug from the floor and made a quick exit _without _looking back. A blush still covering her entire face, _what was I thinking?_

Bulma got a total of three hours sleep as the clock indicated 6am. The room was still relatively dark but she could see her way around. Her stomach growled angrily at her, forcing her to roll out of bed and get some food. Bunny and Mr Briefs were away on vacation so there wouldn't be much food prepared for her; she guessed she'd have to make her own. The thought annoyed her a little but she shrugged and slugged out of the room without checking her appearance. Before she left the room she stopped and listened for the GR to realize it wasn't on, _Vegeta must be asleep. That's pretty unusual for him._ She took the opportunity lightly and rushed down the corridor, clambered down the stairs and into the kitchen. The less she saw of Vegeta the better, not knowing what came over her last night. All she _did _know was, if he knew she had been there...He would have killed her, or something along those lines.

As she dashed into the kitchen she immediately froze as she felt the presence of another being in the room. _Shit_ she thought as the slowly cranked her neck to the side. There he was, sitting there in his little shorts with that little grin across his face, _shit, why's he grinning? Did he know? No, of course he didn't...Right? _She tried to remain cool as she casually walked over to the bread bin to grab a loaf, that's when she heard him move. Still not looking she put a few slices of bread into the toaster and with what felt like literally a second, she felt his breath on the back of her neck; causing her to jump in surprise.

Bulmas body tensed and she felt the heat flow over her once again. He wasn't moving, he just stood behind her, silent. _What the hell is he doing?_She panicked but remained with her back facing him, that's when he stood closer and pulled his head towards her ear.

"I know," he said in a soft whisper. She could feel the smug grin on his face as he spoke.

Then the heat from his body disappeared and the coolness of the air caressed Bulmas tense figure. Still panicked, she swivelled round and saw an empty room, and the sound of the GR began to hum in her ears. _What just happened?_ She thought as she placed a hand to her pulsing face. _He knows?_

**HE KNOWS** ...

She clenched her fists and pouted before continuing her thoughts, _well, I guess we're even now. _She nodded as the thought flew through her mind, although she couldn't shake a slight feeling of disappointment when she felt him disappear. What was she expecting? _No_! She thought as she shook her head rapidly before smelling the burnt toast she'd left in the toaster. She let out a huge sigh and knew that she wouldn't be able to eat anything anyway. Not now...


	4. Charmer

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 4  
><span>Charmer<span>

Bulma tapped her pen repeatedly against her work bench, staring out the window to see the vast shades of red and brown occupying the trees. It was late October and the days were winding down, the nights were becoming longer and Bulma was finding hard to occupy her time. Granted, there was a _lot_ on her mind and she had a lot of plans but she simply hadn't gotten around to doing anything. She was confused about a lot of things right now, like how she felt for Yamcha, _Yamcha,_ she thought as she mindlessly chewed the end of her pen. It was definitely over and she wanted it that way but she couldn't stop thinking about him now that he was seeing someone else. This infuriated her to the point of insanity as she was a strong woman and didn't want to dwell over _any_ man, no matter how ridiculously attractive.

She yawned and stretched her arms causing her t-shirt to ride up and reveal the bottom of her stomach. She pulled it down and looked out the window once more, noticing Vegeta walking out in to the fresh fall air. She cocked her head slightly and drew her eyes together, wondering what he was doing. He stood next to the old oak tree at the far corner of the lawn and proceeded to sit down beneath it.

A smile grew across Bulmas face and she looked away from him, _he can be quite cute sometimes. _Vegeta was the only source of entertainment she had recently, between their arguments and fights, she felt a sense of excitement and fire. She didn't think too much about it though, she didn't want any unnecessary trouble with any men for now. She _did_ need some more excitement in her life and she hadn't seen any of her friends in a while now. With a heartbeat she dropped her pen on the work bench and placed a finger to her chin. Her friends can spare a couple of hours out of their training to come and see her can't they?

Yes, yes they can!

She thought as she arose from her seat. That's what she would do, she'd invite everyone round for lunch and they'd all talk, drink and _relax_.

Bulma suddenly paused and closed her eyes as if in deep thought. Then it loomed over her, she'd have to invite Yamcha, she couldn't _not_ invite him because he'd just find out anyway and turn up; with his new beau. She dropped her shoulders and sighed at the thought, _maybe it was a bad idea,_she thought before shaking her head in a disagreement with herself.

_No. I will have everyone 'round. So what if Yamcha brings his girlfriend, it'll give me a chance to get to know her._

She grinned but couldn't help feel a bit nervous, there was no doubt that Bulma was attractive but from what she had heard about 'Emi', she had a bit of competition.

_What?_ She thought angrily to herself while crossing her arms across her chest.

_That's it; this get together is going to happen. _

With that in mind she stormed out of the lab and went to find her mother, to start the preparations.

The food was all ready and plated up on the dining room table. Bunny stood before it and clasped her hands together with a dazed expression across her forever gleaming face. Of course Bunny was looking forward to the gathering, she had been preparing and panicking about it for the past couple of days. What should she wear? What sort of spread should she prepare? What music should they play? The 'gathering' was becoming a party which Bulma just accepted and let her mother enjoy herself.

Bulma was busy fixing her hair and it was becoming an extremely stressful ordeal. She had the curling tongs in her hand while staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her aqua hair was loosely curled and rested just above her chest; she sighed and decided to leave it as it was. She made sure she looked exceptional in the company of Yamcha and his girlfriend. She wore a loose white sundress with a light blue cardigan; she didn't want to look too obvious. Her face was fine, she only had to use a bit of blusher and mascara as her natural complexion was flawless. She nodded at her reflection and stood up to pat down any creases in her dress. She wondered if Vegeta would turn up, _probably not, _she thought quickly as she made her way to the top of the stair case. Even if he did turn up he'd probably just ruin everything and kill the mood, _maybe it's best to keep him in the GR for now._ She stopped at the foot of the stairs as she noticed Vegeta making his way towards her. Bulma couldn't help but freeze, he had this effect on her, and she always felt uneasy around him.

As he approached her she fixed her eyes on his body, how toned and muscular he was with all that sweat glistening on his bronzed skin. He lifted his head as he felt her eyes burning his skin. As he laid eyes on her he couldn't help but notice a 'difference' in her appearance, she looked radiant and incredibly pleased with herself. Their eyes met as he was inches away and he proceeded to look at her figure.

_Exposing herself once again_**,** he thought as he noticed her long creamy legs. He took a long look at her and continued to walk in the direction of his room, before shaking his head in anger and pulling his eyes away.

Bulma remained still and a little confused to say the least.

_Did he realise how obvious he was? _She questioned before shaking her head and blushing quite severely. The thought was instantly removed by the sound of the door bell and Bulma shot down the stairs to answer it. As she made it to the door she looked through the peephole to see Krillin and Master Roshi standing idly at the other side. Without hesitation she flung the door open and gave the two men a welcoming hug which Master Roshi gladly accepted of course. Krillin stood and looked at Bulma with a raised eye brow.

"Hey Bulma. I didn't know it was a party; I woulda' dressed up a bit more y'know."He blushed and looked at the floor.

Bulma was a bit confused with what he said before turning round to notice all the ribbons and banners around the room. She sighed and turned back to the bald man.

"I gave my mom the honour of preparing all the food but I guess she got a bit carried away, huh?" she said as she ushered the two men in.

Krillin took a few paces in and looked around with concern across his features. Bulma became a bit frustrated before asking "What's the matter, Krillin?" She said in a harsh tone while tapping her foot.

He spun around and smiled nervously before speaking.

"Vegeta isn't around is he?" he spoke in almost a whisper.

"No, he's training. Why?" She said bluntly.

"Oh, no reason..." He trailed off into an inaudible mumble as he made his way into the dining room. Bulma glanced at Master Roshi and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't ask me!" he exclaimed "I think he's been a bit neglected, if you know what I mean, heh heh!" he said as he playfully elbowed Bulma in her side.

_Dirty old man, _she thought as she watched him follow Krillin to the dining room.

Bulma remained in the hallway anticipating the arrival of her next guests. She couldn't help but glance out the window continuously, that's when she saw Goku, Chichi and Gohan arrive. Chichi didn't look too happy as she trudged her way to the door. Bulma bounced towards the door and quickly opened it, ready to welcome her dearest friends.

"Hey!" She exclaimed as she grabbed Chichi in to a bear hug. Chichi smiled and returned the hug.

As they parted from each other she saw Chichi's smile soon fade and a concerned frown appeared across her stern features.  
>Bulma looked at her with a raised eyebrow before she was greeted by Goku. He lifted her off the ground and in to an extremely tight hug before plopping her back on her feet.<p>

"Hey Bulma! Long time no see." He said with a huge smile across his face.

He was dressed in a shirt and pants which was unusual for Goku. _He looks kind of handsome, _Bulma thought as she stared at the tall Saiyan.

She then nodded towards him, "Yeah. My mom has food prepared in the dining room so you guys can go help yourselves." She said and pointed in the right direction. As they eagerly walked towards the dining room she patted Gohan on the head as he walked by and gave him a sincere smile.

"Hey kid." She said softly to the young Saiyan. He smiled back, showing his teeth.

"Hi Bulma. I can't wait to see the food!" He exclaimed.

Bulma chuckled and shook her head at him before ushering them to the dining room where Mater Roshi and Krillin awaited.

She took a breath and smiled at her guests before rushing back to the hallway, to peer out of the window. The trees were becoming bare and the lawn was covered in crispy brown and red leaves, leaving a carpet over the stone pathway. She sighed and looked up at the clear blue sky to notice a few birds swooping back and forth from one roof top to another. She became jealous of their freedom and the fact that they could fly.

She could fly if she truly wanted to but the thought terrified her, besides she was able to fly in the ships and cars she'd created herself; although she supposed it wasn't the same. She sighed and focused her attention back to the front lawn to see Yamcha. _Shit_, she thought as an overwhelming urge to throw up took over her body. She continued to peer out of the window but Yamcha looked like he'd arrived on his own, _strange._

She walked over to the door and opened it slowly. She stood in the middle of the door way and smiled at her ex boyfriend, waiting for his response. He was wearing loose pants and red short sleeved shirt, as handsome as ever. Before she could open her mouth to speak she heard a loud squeaky voice calling.

"Yamcha! Wait up! I can't walk fast in the shoes!" the voice said in a panic stricken tone.

Yamcha gave Bulma a small smile and looked back towards the front entrance. A tall woman with chestnut brown hair stumbled over in a tight red mini dress and ridiculous high heeled shoes. Bulma looked at her and noticed how beautiful she was, she became overwhelmed with sadness as she stood waiting in the doorway. She watched Yamcha attend the woman and they both made their way towards her.

Bulma smiled greatly as the pair approached her and she welcomed them both into the house with open arms. The woman stood before her and Bulma was surprised at how tall she was.

_Great, _she thought as she looked up at the woman. Bulma extended an arm and smiled at the her.

"Hi, I'm Bulma. It's great to finally meet you." She tried to sound as convincing as possible.

The woman looked surprised and stared at Bulmas hand for a few seconds before unlatching herself from Yamcha and returning the gesture.

"Oh, hi! I'm Emi. You too! My Gosh! Your hair is a fabulous colour!" She exclaimed as she grabbed one of Bulmas loose curls to inspect it.

Bulma looked at Emi, startled at how forward she was. Then she glanced at Yamcha to notice his face beetroot red with embarrassment. Bulma couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed as Emi refrained from messing her hair up and reattached herself back on to Yamcha.

She quickly ushered the pair in to the dining room to mingle with all the other guests and she couldn't help but notice all the other men in the room practically drooling over Emi. Bulma shrugged her shoulders and made her way back to the hallway. _Who's missing? _She thought as glanced back out the window. Piccolo hadn't arrived yet, nor did Tien or Chiouatzu, although when they did arrive at least her friends would be able to sense their ki on arrival. So she decided to relax and join her friends.

_I guess this won't be so bad after all_, she thought as she strolled into the dining room.

The party was going well and everyone was 'merry' to say the least. The plates were empty and the room was a mess but that's what Bulma had expected all along. The music was booming and everyone had made their way into the lounge where they all gathered around Emi in amazement. Bulma on the other hand was sitting in the kitchen with a very grumpy Chichi. Bulma sat at the breakfast bar with a glass of red wine in her right hand and Chichi had a glass a white wine in her hand. Chichi shared a similar personality when she was tipsy but Bulma was bubblier and cheerful. She looked at Chichi and frowned for a moment.

"What's the matter Chichi?" she said as she pointed at the frown on her friends face.

"That." She replied as she pointed through into the other room behind Bulma. Bulma blinked a few times before spinning her body around to see Goku and the others circled around Emi, laughing and ogling at her.

Bulma shrugged and turned back around to face her friend. "I know I know." She said waving her hand in a 'shushing' notion before sipping her red wine. Chichi looked at Bulma with wide eyes, confused at her reaction.

"You don't care?" She questioned.

"Well, not really. I mean, she's new and she's beautiful" they both nodded "They're obviously going to be curious" She said with a slight giggle.

Chichi gulped down her wine and proceeded to stare at Bulma as if waiting for her to continue. Bulma stared back and frowned before extending an arm across the table.

"Don't worry about it Chichi. It's just a party." She said softly to her friend and Chichi reached over and squeezed Bulmas hand in return.

Chichi was about to say something when they both heard a quiet grunt coming from the direction of the hallway. Bulma looked at Chichi with a concerned expression on her face and Chichi smiled softly before getting up from her seat and making her way in to the lounge, leaving Bulma in the kitchen by herself.

Bulma placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her palms, waiting for Vegeta to walk in. She watched him as he headed for the fridge, half naked and sweaty as usual. She smiled a little before swivelling around to see Chichi violently pulling on Goku's arm. Goku remained in the circle surrounding Emi, scratching the back of his head. Bulma giggled before looking over at the centre of attention. Emi was staring in the direction of the kitchen, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. Bulma turned around to see Vegeta standing beside her with a leg of roast ham in his hand. She looked up at him to notice him staring down at her, she blushed before pointing out.

"Looks like you've caught someone's attention" she said in a playful tone, looking towards Emi who was staring at Vegeta. He looked at Bulma with his usual frown and a raised eyebrow.

"What are you talking about, woman?" He questioned rather harshly. His eyes remained on Bulma as she tried to subtly point out Emi.

"Yamcha's girlfriend. Over there." She pointed out again. Vegeta followed Bulmas finger and caught eyes of the tall brunette, before scoffing.

"The weakling has clearly taken a dive" he said with a grin across his face. He quickly looked down at Bulma to notice her eyes locked on to his. He immediately realised that what he said had been a mistake and with that he turned around and stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Bulma remained seated and her mouth half open in surprise.

_Was that an indirect compliment from Vegeta? _She thought as she swigged the remains of the red wine. She couldn't help but feel the heat pulsing through her face at the thought. She placed a hand to her cheek and glanced back in at the lounge to see a very disappointed Emi. Bulma gave her a sly grin and made her way to the fridge for some more wine.

Once she had a new bottle in her hand she saw Chichi sitting back at the kitchen table with an extreme frown on her face. Bulma chuckled and made her way over, taking the bottle with her.

"No luck?" She said in a teasing tone. Chichi glared at Bulma, sighed and then crossed her arms across her chest.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Yamcha needs to keep an eye on that girl!" She said before smirking at Bulma.

Chichi knew her husband wouldn't do anything _too_ stupid and she respected him for his loyalty at least, she was just surprised that the party had been going on for four hours and Emi was still the main attraction. With that thought in mind Chichi looked at her watch which indicated 9pm.

"Hmm." She uttered as she looked at Bulma who was pouring her a new glass of wine. Chichi was contemplating leaving but she decided to let go and drink a bit more, it was a party after all.

They both made their way into the lounge where the rest of the gang were. Krillin was now sitting in the corner of the room with Bunny, looking through Mr Briefs old CD collection, Master Roshi was standing next to Emi with a hand placed on one of her ass cheeks. _Sheesh, _Bulma thought as she rolled her eyes at the dirty old man. Goku was busy talking to Yamcha while eating a chicken leg, Piccolo was sitting on the sofa with a glass of water in his hand and Gohan was standing with Emi and Master Roshi, watching her attentively. At that moment Chichi made her way beside Gohan and put a stern hand on the boys shoulder while remaining pleasantly tipsy. Bulma laughed at her crazy friend and sat next to Piccolo on the sofa. He glanced at her quickly and then focused his attention on the fireplace opposite him. Bulma chuckled softly.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself" she said in an ironic tone.

"Hmm" he grunted and sipped his water. "Why isn't Vegeta here?" He said in a blunt voice.

"He not very sociable as you already know" she remarked as she eyed the quiet Namek.

As she watched his stone features she couldn't help but notice a slight smirk appear across his face. She poked his arm and looked at him confused.

"What are you smirking at, mister?" She spoke in a playful tone but slightly aggressive.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye before getting up and leaving her alone on the sofa. Bulma sat bemused by the turn of events and decided to down the rest of her glass of wine; letting the music fill her ears.

Bulma remained on her own for a good fifteen minutes before Yamcha sat next to her and smiled. She slowly looked over at him and realised she was now a bit too drunk. She acknowledged his smile and returned the gesture. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, it was a great party B" he rubbed her shoulder "Me and Emi are going home now. Emi is tired from the excitement from meeting new people" He said nervously.

Bulma scoffed, _is she a fucking dog or something? _She thought and laughed in her own amusement before looking back up at Yamcha.

"Yes." She said with a nod and a false smile on her face.

Before she knew it Yamcha had gotten up from the couch and made his way over to his girlfriend. Bulma knew she would now have to stand up and doing such a task proved to be harder than she thought. She had to make her way to the door to let her guests out but she couldn't help but stumble a little.

Nevertheless she eventually made it to the doorway in one piece and almost fell on the door handle before opening the door.

Yamcha smiled sweetly at her before embracing her and whispering in her ear, "Bye, Bulma. You looked great tonight".

After the words fluttered around Bulmas head she felt her heart thud in to her rib cage, but this was painful. She pulled herself away from Yamcha and looked into his eyes, but before she could reply she felt someone almost tackle her to the ground.

"Bye Bulma! The party was awesome. You're friends are _so _nice!" Emi exclaimed in an overly excited tone.

Bulma was shocked and stumbled her way back up straight before smiling back at the tall woman. She realised that maybe she was wrong about Emi, she wasn't blonde and busty. She nodded at the pair as they both walked away and out the front lawn and as Bulma shut the door she couldn't help but release a couple of tears that forcefully escaped; before wiping them away and heading back to the lounge.

It wasn't too long before the rest of the guests left and Bulma was alone once again. Her mother and father had gone to bed and left her with a huge mess in the lounge. Bulma glanced around and placed a hand to her forehead, noticing how dizzy she felt.

"Urgh" she muttered as she stood up and wobbled on her feet.

The house was quiet; there was no humming from the GR so she only assumed Vegeta had gone to bed. She smiled as she remembered the way he had 'sort of' complimented her earlier. Maybe Vegeta wasn't as selfish as he let on, but the fact that he almost ran away after saying it, made Bulma think otherwise.

As she stumbled in to the kitchen with empty bottles and cans in her hands she saw Vegeta sitting at the breakfast bar eating some left over pizza. To be honest, she was more surprised that there was left over pizza than the fact Vegeta was still up at this hour. She placed the bottles and cans in the bin and looked at her watch; squinting at the tiny clock face before being interrupted.

"It's midnight", he said with his eyes focused on a slice of pizza he had.

Bulma turned her attention to him and noticed he had clothes on, _what a pleasant surprise, _she thought sarcastically to herself. As she stared at him eating she realised she didn't get the chance to return the compliment before. She grinned at the thought, knowing it would thicken the tension between the two of them. With that she took a step closer to him before opening her mouth.

"Vegeta" she said in a curious tone while trying to balance.

He didn't look up immediately but he let his eyes fall to her frame after a couple of seconds, noticing how intoxicated she was. He could smell her from the lounge, it was unpleasant to him. She usually had a sweet scent like coconuts, he'd become quite familiar with it but _this _scent was disgusting.

A frown formed across his face as he looked into her eyes which still gleamed towards him.

_What could be so important that she must distract me from eating?_ He thought impatiently as he waited for her to speak.

Bulma stared at him and prepared herself for what she was about to say. She felt her face pulse before she opened her mouth to speak, then she stood straight a nodded to herself.

"You're kinda' sexy too", she remarked with a face full of teeth but before she could get a sarcastic comeback from Vegeta, she stumbled her way out of the room and up the stairs.

She felt slightly aroused by her own actions but she knew that was just the alcohol messing with her mind. Did she really find Vegeta _sexy?_ Then she thought back to all the times she had seen him half naked and the time she had seen him _very_ naked. _Yes_, she concluded before stumbling up the stairs.

Vegeta remained at the breakfast bar, staring at the last piece of pizza on the plate. He tried to figure out what had just happened and why he had let it happen. _So_, he thought _the woman finds me attractive. _He smirked momentarily knowing that it wasn't much of a surprise before becoming overwhelmed with anger; his mind was slipping once again. He clenched his fists and leapt from his seat; quickly making his way to the GR. _Damn woman, _he thought with a slight shade of crimson apparent on his cheeks.


	5. The Eye of the Storm

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 5  
><span>The Eye of the Storm<span>

* * *

><p>Bulma was frantically racing home from a much needed dose of retail therapy. A storm was approaching, the air was unusually warm and thick and Bulma had foolishly decided to walk into town; thinking she could do with a bit of fresh air. <em>Oh, the joys of hindsight!<em>

She was at least half a mile away from her home when her mobile phone began to buzz in her pocket. She dropped her numerous shopping bags and searched her purse for her phone. After a few heated seconds of frenzied searching she seized her phone and answered the call.

"Oh Bulma, honey! Me and your father are stuck at Master Roshi's! This storm is awfully heavy. Are you home dear? I prepared a casserole so you and Mr Vegeta should be fine for tonight!" Bunny squealed down the phone.

Bulma sighed in frustration as she could have done with her mother's company.

"Ok, Mom. I'm just on my way home now. It's only just begun to rain this second so I should be fine if I hurry!" Bulma had no time to waste so she said bye to her mother promptly and jogged home while lugging half a dozen large shopping bags.

She was literally a few yards from home when buckets of rain fell from the heavy sky and a growl of thunder challenged her courage. She panicked as she always hated thunder and lightning ever since she was a child_, _it was a fear she would keep for life. It only took a few seconds before Bulma was completely saturated as were the items of clothing she had bought earlier. She finally made it home and sprinted to the doorway before rummaging through her bag for the key. _Shit shit shit..._she began to panic a little before letting out a sigh of relief and producing the house key in her soaked hand.

She barged her way in ass first and flung the soaking wet bags to the floor, knowing that the only thing she desired right now was a steaming hot shower.

* * *

><p>After spending a good half an hour in the scorching shower Bulma was ready with a towel wrapped tightly around her damp locks and an easy t-shirt and short combination pyjamas. Bulma could hear the GR humming faintly from the ground floor and thought to take the opportunity to truly relax and watch a film, before being completely aware of Vegeta's presence. She was still feeling humiliated from last week's drunken behaviour; she had been avoiding him all week. She knew it was the drink talking but Vegeta may not have thought the same; letting his ego extend to an even greater level. <em>Is that even possible? <em>

As she entered the living room she speculated about what type of film she was in the mood for, _comedy? Romance? Horror? _She decided to be courageous and settle for a horror film on. _Hmmm. _She flicked through her dads DVD collection and stumbled across a film Yamcha had once tried to make her watch a couple months back, 'Hostel'. Next to it laid 'Pride and Prejudice' which her fingers danced upon momentarily, _No, horror film it is! _

She reluctantly placed the disc in to the DVD player and sat back on the sofa, ready for the blood and gore. She could handle a bit of violence, she _did_fight a giant crab when she was practically abandoned on Namek, and so this film should be a breeze.

After twenty minutes or so Bulma felt confused to say the least and to her surprise the film had yet to display any form of gore or internal organs. Although, she did see many external organs flopping around on the screen, frankly she wasn't impressed.

She was pretty much ready to get up and change the DVD when in a flash; she was sitting in a room of complete darkness. She remained seated as she concluded that the storm must had cut off the entire power in the house and probably the rest of Capsule Corp. At that moment a huge roll of thunder growled causing Bulma to shriek and rise from the couch.

She couldn't see a damn thing and the noise of the thunder was getting louder. The only visual assistance she had was the violent flashes of lightening, but she was too terrified to acknowledge a route or plan. She begun to bite her nails and waver nervously in the dark, not knowing what to do.

_Get a grip Bulma!_

She sighed in relief as she heard an infuriated voice coming from the GR.

"WOMAN!" Vegeta wasn't pleased at all by the sound of things; even the GR power had been cut.

Bulma rolled her eyes but could not see anything beyond her nose and for some strange reason she actually wanted Vegeta's company. After a few seconds she forcefully made her way around the room, colliding with the coffee table and then the arm chair. She waved her hands around erratically, feeling for anything in the way; such as a wall. Then she felt a huge thud and her head collided with something rock hard. She screamed a little while trying to compose herself, "Shit" she whispered to herself; while resting a hand on her pulsing forehead.

Before she could continue she felt a heat emanating from the obstacle, knowing it was someone but she wasn't entirely sure who it was. She guessed there was a 90% chance it was Vegeta but there was a slight possibility that it was a psychotic burglar.

So she took a wary step back and whispered, "Vegeta?"

At that moment she knew how pathetic she sounded and was quite ashamed by her own behaviour. After a few intense seconds she heard a grunt from the darkness and was instantly relieved.

"Who did you think it was?" he scoffed.

"I don't know. Maybe a burglar or something..." She said the last bit very faintly but she knew he heard her clearly.

"If that was so, I would have blast him into another dimension by now" he boasted.

"...How chivalrous..." She said whilst rolling her eyes.

They both stood in the lounge, or at least that's where Bulma thought she was, in complete silence before Vegeta decided to break it.

"Fix the power. I need to return to my training immediately." He ordered.

Bulma was tired and couldn't deal with any hassle from Vegeta so she thought she best just fix the power and get him out of her hair.

" Ok ok, sheesh. Let me find a torch or something." She said while shuffling forward ever so delicately.

She heard Vegeta step closer to her which made her feel a little uncomfortable.

"Woman, honestly" he scoffed "I do not need the light to see." He spoke in a gruff and seductive tone while taking yet another step closer to Bulma.

She turned around and let her eyes adjust so that she could see the faint outline of the cocky Saiyan. She placed her hands on her hips, knowing he could obviously see _her _perfectly fine.

"Well, I do. Now help me find a torch." She commanded.

She clambered over small obstacles and stubbed her toe a few times before she saw a ball of light at the far end of the room. She could now see a very smug Vegeta with a huge grin smacked across his face. He had been able to create a small energy ball which partially lit up the room, without wasting any unnecessary power on his behalf. The room was flickering in a faint orange glow and Bulma could now make out where she was standing. It appeared she had walked approximately two steps and injured herself countless times in the process.

She glared at Vegeta, looking at his glowing torso; he replicated some sort of Greek God she thought. She felt a sudden urge to touch his skin, just to recollect how warm it was. The last time she made physical contact with him, she couldn't help but feel hot and flustered.

_No, not now._

She soon met his eyes and squinted at him while pointing at the ball of glowing energy.

"Oh. Well, that'll do nicely. See, you can be helpful!" she said sarcastically while waiting for a reaction.

His smug face soon altered into its' usual frown and look of disgust combination.

"Don't push it." He growled while nodding in the direction to which she should be walking.

_Jerk._

Bulma strolled ahead into the glowing corridor and Vegeta followed closely behind. He couldn't take his eyes away from her perky ass bouncing up and down in those revealing shorts. The thought caused him to grunt aloud in a protest to his own subconscious. The noise provoked Bulma to turn around with an inquisitive expression on her face.

"What? Not scared of the dark are you?" she laughed.

Vegeta couldn't see the funny side of course but was glad she didn't notice him staring.

"Don't be ridiculous!" he barked "I wasn't the one screaming and thinking a burglar had gotten in" he said letting out a small chuckle. She couldn't think of a witty or intelligent comeback, so she released the child within.

"Whatever, monkey man." She teased while continuing to walk ahead.

The tone between the two was agreeable and Bulma found herself quite relaxed in Vegeta's company. In fact, this was probably the longest conversation they had had and she was even more surprised when Vegeta continued the banter.

"Are you mocking a prince?" He spoke bluntly.

"I think you'll find _you _were mocking _me_" she spat as she continued to walk down the glowing corridor with her head held high.

"You shouldn't be such a bitch then" he remarked in harsh tone; realising he was being too casual.

Bulma stopped in her tracks and spun around, coming face to face with Vegeta; their noses centimetres apart. The hallway fell silent as the pair locked eyes. Bulma felt the anger burning her throat as she saw she smirk on Vegeta's face. She knew he was up to something and was paranoid that he was playing mind games with her because of what she had said to him whilst being 'slightly' intoxicated. She cringed at the memory but returned to the glare she was holding. That's when she saw it, he smiled. She saw his large canine teeth, but before she could hold the image she was standing in complete darkness again.

Vegeta had diminished his energy ball and thought it would be amusing to see the woman squirm in the darkness. He remained inches away from her face, noticing her eyes darting from left to right in a panic. He took a few steps back so that she could no longer feel the heat from his body; leaving her feeling completely vulnerable.

Bulma stretched her arms out frantically, trying to get hold of Vegeta and possibly strangle him to death. A quick flash of lightening revealed an empty hallway and Bulma felt very alone. She felt her body sweat as the coldness of the hall flew over her bare arms and legs.

"Ok, Vegeta. This isn't funny now!" She said in a shaky voice "Vegeta! Get back here NOW...I mean it, Vegeta. I will _never _fix the GR if you don't get back here!" she almost screamed as a roar of thunder which sounded as if it was right on top of her, shuddered the house.

Bulma decided to strop and fold her arms across her chest, half in fear and half in anger. _What a jerk. Guess I'll just have to make my own way..._she bravely turned around and took a small step forward, hearing the wind howling outside.

After a few minutes of complete and utter fear, Bulma felt a presence behind her. _Vegeta,_ she thought, slightly relieved. Although, she became very uncomfortable and strangely aroused when she felt him press his body against hers, _what the hell is trying to do? _She thought as she stood frozen still with her back facing him.

_He __**is **__playing games._

Vegeta could smell her immediate arousal at his presence and couldn't help but feel smug at the lack of control she had. He knew what he was doing and found this little game very entertaining. Although subconsciously, he knew it was him who was losing control of his mind and desires, which angered him. He let a deep breath escape his lips, letting the heat fall on to the back of her neck. He noticed how she shuddered and how her legs almost gave in on her. He grinned at the thought, he had control over her.

_Foolish woman._

Bulma couldn't comprehend the situation and nervously diverted; feeling the blush flare on to her cheeks and her heart beating rapidly within her rib cage.

"Right." She uttered, still facing away from Vegeta, "Come on, we need to get to the fuse box so I can resume the power and you can get back to your stupid training." She remarked nervously.

Silence.

"Vegeta?" she questioned while slowly and reluctantly turning around to face him.

Within a split second the hallway began to glow a dim orange again, revealing Vegeta's stone features; his face inches apart from Bulmas.

He stared deeply into her eyes as if trying to search her thoughts. What felt like hours, Bulma nervously darted her stare to the left and continued to turn around; trying to digress from the situation.

"I think its right down the hallway and then to the left" she spoke in an overly enthusiastic tone.

She felt Vegeta take a step back, but he formed no words. With that out the way Bulma proceeded to walk forward, Vegeta following closely behind.

* * *

><p>The tension thickened as they reached the mains, causing Bulma to feel dazed with the unwanted stress. The storm continued to rage from above, shaking the house on several occasions but Bulma kept her composure for the sake of her sanity.<p>

She opened the box, flicked a few switches and tinkered around for a few minutes before turning round to face Vegeta and concluding.

"Hmmm...Doesn't look like we're getting any power..." she said. She walked over to one of the windows and peered out of the blinds to reveal complete darkness for what looked like miles. "Looks like the whole town is out." She said with a slight gasp. Then she waited patiently for the inevitable.

"Woman..." he grunted heavily in a warning.

Bulma then placed her hands on her hips and looked in to Vegeta's eyes. "Look. I can't control the weather, Vegeta and I'm not going to start messing around with wires. I need to sleep, you're just going to have to wait till the morning." She ordered as she pointed a finger towards him.

Vegeta felt uncertain with what he might do to the woman if he didn't get his training done. His frustration was hard to curb. He stared at her with his usual frown and let the silence engulf the entire hallway, before exhaling heavily.

"You humans are pathetic. You most of all. Can't you do anything useful?" He remarked, still focused on Bulmas wide eyed expression.

"Excuse me?" She replied, not impressed.

"I don't have time for this." He stated before diminishing the energy ball once again and leaving Bulma alone amongst the darkness.

She stood still, knowing that this time Vegeta wouldn't return. She waved a hand in front of her eyes to check if she could see _anything_. _Nope_, she thought as she sighed a heavy sigh.

"You have got to be kidding me!" She shouted down the empty hallway, knowing Vegeta would hear.

She didn't want to satisfy him anymore than he had won, so she took a deep breath and valiantly decided to feel her way up to her room and get the sleep she well and truly deserved.

* * *

><p>Bulma had been tossing over in her bed for at least an hour, unable to rest with the anger and disappointment circling her mind.<p>

_Why does he have to act like this? And what was the constant staring about? _She thought to herself over and over again. When he looked in to her eyes, she noticed a deep sadness and longing; as if something was missing.

She sat up and looked out the window, adjacent to her bed. She couldn't see much apart from the trees swaying back and forth in the violent wind. _At least the thunder has stopped. _Bulma blinked and rubbed her tired eyes while letting her mind run free with thoughts of Vegeta. She just wanted to help him and yet he threw it back in her face, time after time. Nobody was happy with her decision to let him stay at Capsule Corp, with the exception of her mother of course. Bulma knew he was lonely and needed help, but she also knew he was too proud to ever ask for it. As soon as Vegeta found himself in a vulnerable position he would push it out immediately and unfortunately, Bulma was in the line of fire.

She wouldn't give but she knew he wouldn't either. His training was too important to him. This caused Bulma to grow intrigued, wanting to know about his past; but that was a long shot and he'd probably blast her to pieces if she started to pester him. Although, she couldn't help her curiosity and Vegeta was very unique, _that's for sure_!

Bulma stretched her arms up and yawned, knowing she wouldn't rest until she spoke to Vegeta. First, she wanted an apology, _doubtful_, and second she wanted to know just a little bit about him. She knew she was playing with fire but hey, she is Bulma Briefs.

* * *

><p>Vegeta was lying on his bed, facing the ceiling, expressionless. He lay in his training shorts as he was too infuriated to do anything, let alone change. He couldn't stop thinking about her, well her body. He 'wanted' it and even more so due to his lack of training. It was the only thing that kept him relatively sane around her. She was intolerable and that <em>voice<em>, he winced at the thought.

He definitely wanted her physically and nothing more but it was becoming hard to control. His instinctive desire for the female species was becoming more and more apparent and it was only a matter of time before she suspected. He even suggested she was attractive the other week, but she was deeply intoxicated so he assumed she didn't recollect.

He sighed, stood up and walked over to the open window before looking aimlessly out on to the empty lawn. He realised he could have taken her there and then, although he wanted to clarify that she wanted the same thing. She couldn't have any attachment to him what so ever, he needed his mind focused. Although, by the looks of things, she was also playing games with him, why would she have called him _sexy _and then run away? Yet the next day she completely avoided him, not that he was seeking after her. In fact it was nice to get some peace from her constant whining.

Vegeta remained stood at the window before concluding that he would have to up his game. He would never be beaten, especially not by _her_. At that moment he grunted in frustration, his mind was wondering again! She kept creeping in to his head causing his focus to become obscured. He initially noticed this when he saw her at his bed side after the gravity capsule explosion. He was well aware of her presence but he couldn't understand _why_ she was there. It had lingered in his mind for the couple of months after, before realising that she was _interested _in him, whether it was sexually or not. He didn't want her around, she was trying to look after him and he didn't need it, yet she persisted knowing he wouldn't react in her favour.

He knew that the arrival of the androids was quickly creeping towards him and he had yet to reach the Super Saiyan level. Maybe she was the reason why, she was distracting him that's for sure and he wouldn't tolerate it any further.

* * *

><p>Bulma reached Vegetas bedroom door, trying to gather a plan of what to say to him. She bit her bottom lip in deep thought as she placed her hand on the door handle; twisting it gently. As she opened the door, she could vaguely see the silhouette of the spiky haired Saiyan. He was standing opposite the window facing her, he was obviously expecting her.<p>

"Vegeta?" she questioned.

Silence.

"I know you're there, don't ignore me." She started to get angry but desperately wanted to keep her composure.

She took a couple of steps forward so that she was standing completely in his room, noticing how immaculate everything was. She took a deep breath.

"You need to watch who you're talking to. You have no manners in female company. You can't just _tell_ me what to do. I'm not your slave and you're not a prince anymore." Bulma figured she shouldn't have said the last part but she knew it was the only way she would gain a reaction.

She now stood in the middle of the room, realising how cold it was and the silence was killing her. That's when he cut in.

"You need to watch who _you're _speaking to, onna." Muttered an aggressive voice from the other end of the room.

At this point Bulma sensed that the argument was going to be pointless as Vegeta was already in a foul mood. She took a step back, ready to leave as she thought any more effort would be wasted, _why do I bother?_

"Oh, shut up Vegeta. I work damn hard to keep you happy. You have no idea!" she shouted.

Vegeta clenched his fists, enraged by her attitude. _I have no idea? She hasn't a clue of hard work. She knows nothing!_

His veins pumped and his head pounded by her stupidity, yet she persisted on telling him what she thinks she knows.

_SHE has no idea!_

Before Vegeta could establish any thoughts, he found himself walking towards her; red in his eyes.

Bulma stubbornly remained in the middle of the room as he paced towards her; she knew he wouldn't hurt her, _would he? _

With that in mind, she stepped back a few paces till she collided with the cold wall behind her. She couldn't fight the panic growing within her, realising that Vegeta was _not _going to stop. Before she could even contemplate an escape, she felt a pair of hands wrapping around her wrists. He had her pinned against the wall; holding her wrists either side of her head.

Bulma couldn't think straight and all she managed to do was stare in to his onyx eyes. His body was pressed hard against hers and she dare not move. His body heat was wrapping around her every sense, she was practically paralyzed. She looked deeper into his stare and saw that he was no longer angry, but he was searching. Searching in to her eyes. She found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to move.

Vegeta didn't know what he was doing or what he was going to do. He felt her body heat emanating against his bare chest and her breasts crushing against him. When he looked into her aqua eyes he saw a twinge of fear, yet he couldn't avoid the potent smell of her arousal. He automatically slid his face towards hers, breathing delicious in her scent. He closed his eyes and let his lips brush against her soft ones.

She didn't move or reciprocate any actions. Vegeta immediately awoke and pulled his face back, noticing the complete confusion across her face. He held her wrists loosely so she could have easily escaped, but she remained in front of him; exhaling rapidly. Without punishing himself any further, he let go of her wrists, letting her slump slightly. He then whispered in her ear.

"Get out" and took a step back, his arms folded across his chest; waiting for her to leave.

Bulma was in a state of shock as the whole situation was bizarre. Had Vegeta nearly kissed her? Or was that just another one of his mind games? For a second she felt dizzy before realising that he could have hurt her and in a way, he _did _just threaten her. She blinked a couple times and looked at the Saiyan, noticing he was being deadly serious.

Her veins pumped and her mind flooded with anger, no way would she let _any_man handle her in that manner. Not even Vegeta! She took a step forward and with one swift swing, she smacked him across the face and stormed out of the room; feeling the sting from her now throbbing palm. She really needed to sleep.

Or was she already asleep and this was just a nightmare?

When she reached her own bedroom she quickly slammed the door and pressed her back hard against it. The power cut was driving her insane, she needed to take a look at herself, and she must have looked hideous after all the stress she had dealt with today. She pulled her hands up to her face to feel her burning flesh. There was a pain in her stomach, a part of her wanted to jump on Vegeta and she couldn't ignore it. She smacked her palms gently on her cheeks, _stupid stupid! _What would have happened if it was _she _who had tried to kiss him?

She had seen Vegeta in a sexual way but never in a million years would she have acted on it. To her surprise, the proudest being of all almost made a move on her. She couldn't help but giggle as she wasn't too surprised that he found her 'alluring' and she couldn't deny that he was a fine specimen. Bulma closed her eyes so she could picture the moment once more, she had never felt as excited and the burning passion growing inside her was totally new. She had been sexually active with Yamcha but she'd never felt as alive as she did now. _What have you got yourself in to?_

As she paced over to her bed she was struck with the realisation that she could never _be_with Vegeta, the idea almost sickened her. He may have been extremely sexy but he was an arrogant ass hole and never had time for her. She knew what this was to him, he wanted her for sex and nothing more. She lingered upon the thought, could she want him in the same way? She shook her head violently before flopping into bed.

* * *

><p>Vegeta didn't plan on sleeping knowing it was an impossibility anyway. He sighed heavily as he watched a break forming in the cloud, which revealed a glimpse of silver moon light. He had shown her weakness and had no choice but to avoid her at all costs.<p>

_Weakness._

He balled his fist and punched the wall, leaving a whole in the crumbling plaster.

He should have blast her to pieces but as much as he wanted to, he couldn't. Now she knew and he didn't have time to deal with any feelings, especially not hers. He concluded to dismiss and erase the events of the evening and focus on his training. He gripped on to his hair in frustration and frowned at the full moon which appeared from the parted clouds. He had no reason to speak to her again, other than for the GR to be fixed and occasionally for food if the older woman isn't present.

Vegeta hadn't been sexually active for a while now and he didn't rely on that type of release anymore. He could barely recollect it. So why was it an intense urge so sudden? Why should it matter now? She was the main focus of his body's desire and his mind dipped back and forth with decisions. Should he give in to this need? When he had the females on friezas ship, he simply told them to leave afterwards and he continued to train; there was nothing to it. Although, he didn't have to see them again and he didn't know how she would react to such a situation. He scoffed aloud at the thought, he could have any earth woman he wanted, but she seemed to be the only one worthy of his company.

He sighed heavily at the situation he had gotten himself into and he blamed her.

_She shouldn't be walking round like a low class whore._

He removed his hand from his hair and let his tense shoulders slump. He remained at the window as the moonlight outlined his stone silhouette.


	6. Cloud Nine

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 6  
><span>Cloud Nine<span>

* * *

><p>It had been two weeks since Bulma and Vegeta had spoken and two weeks since their little 'incident'. Fourteen days of completely childish behaviour between the two. Bulma found it exhausting to be in the same room as him and realised how mutual it was when Vegeta would instantly remove himself from her company.<p>

The weather was bleak as Christmas drew closer and Bulma found herself stuck indoors most of the time; other than when she was called in to the Capsule Corp branch across town. She would happily travel across town, merely to get out of the house and away from Vegeta. She may barely _see _Vegeta but she knew very well that he was there all the time and she knew what he'd be doing, wearing and when he'd be eating. It was fair to say she needed to get out more.

The fact that they were both stuck in the house most of the time drew them closer together and yet they were always apart. Bulma couldn't figure out what to say to Vegeta and there was no way he would ever attempt to approach her, besides neither of them relied on one another and Bulma took their 'incident' as a brief moment of madness.

She had plenty of time to think about things and concluded that she wouldn't say _no _to Vegeta, but she also wouldn't go chasing after him like a giddy school girl. She was a mature woman and didn't have time to chase after men, especially the likes of Vegeta.

8pm was the time when Bulma arrived home. She'd been working a fourteen hour shift across town, anything to keep her busy. She stepped out of her green convertible and the impact of the cold air on her cheeks caused her to gasp. She hadn't had time to change, so she kept her lab coat and black work pants on, which didn't play in her favour against the bitterly cold weather. She 'clicked' the car shut and pulled her coat over her chest as she paced for the door.

As she reached the door, she exhaled heavily before reaching for her keys and placing them in the lock. Every day seemed like a monotonous chore: get up, avoid Vegeta, go to work, come home, avoid Vegeta and go to sleep.

She wasn't a child and hated what she was becoming. It was antagonising to think that she had to feel on edge in her own home because of an arrogant ass hole with a clear personality disorder.

_He must have bi-polar or something_, she thought as she stepped in to the house.

When Bulma reached the kitchen she let go of her handbag in shock; letting it thud to the floor. She wished her tired eyes were playing tricks on her when she saw the pots, smashed plates and red and yellow food stains across the floor.

_Have we been robbed?_

"What the _fuck_..." She took a few cautious steps forward so she could get a full view of the kitchen. She wanted to think they _had_ been burgled or that a racoon had gotten in and ransacked the place, but she knew what had happened and who the culprit was; but she was way too tired to deal with any of it.

Vegeta had obviously saw that Bunny had yet to do the grocery shopping and Bulma guessed that's what she was doing since the house was completely empty; apart from the obvious.

There were tomatoes and celery sticks strewn across the floor and Bulma had no choice but to simply step over them. She needed beauty sleep, the more time she spent stressing over trivial things the more wrinkles she'd get. She was far too young to be cleaning up after such a..."CHILD!" she shouted, knowing Vegeta would be able to hear. He was probably very aware of her presence before she even reached the house. The thought that he could feel her presence and sense her emotions freaked her out a lot more than it turned her on.

_Stupid Saiyans..._

Vegeta was completely ambiguous but that night when he looked in to Bulmas eyes, she saw an open window. She saw vulnerability and loneliness; she saw something that she doubted anyone else would ever see, but before she could get a good look in to his mind he had shut her off and completely threw her out. She didn't have time for people like that but there was a part of her that wanted to see and feel more, although Vegeta wouldn't offer her the opportunity; she had to find it herself. She would not pursue him, she'd lure some answers out of him; but for now she'd sleep.

* * *

><p>Bulma had only been resting for what felt like five minutes before she heard her mother calling her name and before she could respond, Bunny was sitting on the bed beside her and pushing her shoulder; trying to wake her up.<p>

Bulma grunted as Bunny's toxic perfume filled her nostrils.

"Bulma honey" she spoke in her high pitch tone.

"Uhh-h. Mom?" Bulma slowly lifted her eye lids to see a particularly distressed Bunny, gazing at her with an inquisitive look across her face.

"I've cleaned up that awful mess in the kitchen. You really need to learn how to cook, honey. Then poor Vegeta wouldn't have to worry about what to eat when I'm not around." She giggled.

"Hhh-wha?" Bulma muttered sleepily "Ok mom. Thanks." She said as she rolled over and quickly drifted back off in to a sweet slumber.

Bulma jumped up out of bed to the sound of pots clattering and it was sounding from the kitchen. _What is wrong with him? _She thought as she held a hand to her head; trying to steady the blood flow. As she slowly stood up, she decided that she'd go to the kitchen to get a glass of water and Vegeta would just be second priority.

Her hair was ruffled and her oversized t-shirt was crinkled all over but she couldn't care less as she stomped down the stairs.

The old grandfather clock in the hallway read 2am as Bulma trudged past it. _Urgh_, she thought as her head began to pound. These headaches were becoming a regular occurrence, she was stressing out over the slightest things and she blamed Vegeta. If it wasn't for him, she'd blissfully get on with her own life in her own time; but now he seemed to occupy her mind and she found herself tip toeing around her own home.

_Shame on you, Bulma!_

As she stepped in to the kitchen, she looked around until her eyes rested on Vegetas frame. Only the light beaming from the open fridge and the hallway lit up the room. Vegeta had his head buried in the fridge, routing around for something loaded with sugar.

Bulma blinked, rubbed her eyes and continued to gaze at Vegeta. He was half naked as usual. She queried on whether or not he ever felt cold, it wasn't summer any more, yet he walked around practically naked. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"V-vegeta...What are you doing?" she followed with a yawn as she viewed his dark frame.

Vegeta failed to respond. She expected half as much. "Ok, I get it." She uttered while throwing her hands up in surrender.

_This is getting beyond childish, _she thought, but it occurred to her that this could yet prove to be another opportunity to get some more out of Vegeta.

She slowly shuffled over to the cupboard for a cup before she saw Vegeta stand up with a family size bowl of trifle in his hands. She secretly wanted him to look over at her but that wasn't going to happen. As she reached into the cupboard for a cup, she pulled her arm back and looked over to Vegeta who was now sitting at the table, digging into his trifle.

"Why did you completely trash the kitchen before?" She questioned.

There was a lengthy pause as she gazed at the preoccupied Saiyan, wanting him to respond. All she could do was wait and there was no way she would give up. After the longest twenty seconds of her life, Vegeta looked up at Bulma and placed the spoon from his hand on to the table; with a sigh.

"I recall the fridge being _completely _empty" he said in a condescending tone, with a cocked eyebrow.

Bulma sighed. "Yeah. That's 'cause you keep eating everything. My mom was out getting groceries. Apparently you can't wait _five_minutes before stuffing your face" she spat as she ran the tap water, waiting for it to turn ice cold.

"Obviously" Vegeta responded sarcastically as he resumed eating.

As the ice cool water filled the cup Bulma sighed and looked over at the stubborn imbecile. She couldn't help but feel sympathy towards him, he had no friends and clearly had problems in social situations. She grabbed the cup from under the tap and took a sip of the cool liquid; her eyes still fixed on Vegeta, stuffing his face.

"You need to calm down and stop acting like such a...such a bastard" she said calmly as she took a step towards him.

He snapped his head up at the sound of her harsh words.

_Who does she think she's speaking to? _He thought as he took in her frame.

He noticed how tired she looked but couldn't deny the rosy glow apparent on her cheeks. She was wearing that _blasted_ revealing t-shirt which barely covered her lower half and her hair was wild; yet her allure was still very present.

Bulma decided to take the opportunity to talk to Vegeta and frankly, she didn't care what he thought about the situation. She stepped towards him, her feet pattering on the cold tiles and her eyes now glued to the floor.

"I wanted to talk to you, since you've obviously been hiding away for the past couple of weeks." She unstuck her eyes to see Vegeta, now sitting with his arms folded across his chest and a frown plastered across his face; waiting to see what she was '_getting at'._

She continued, now looking in to his cold eyes. "I just don't get you, Vegeta." She cautiously stepped closer and closer to him as she continued. "You want so many things..." She trailed her finger across the work surface as she got closer.

"The other week...what happened...and I've thought about it." She was now standing next to him, looking down into his onyx eyes.

He quickly tore his eyes away from hers and picked his spoon up to continue eating. Before he could take a bite, he sensed a change in her aura. He was now sitting beside a very aroused and beautiful woman, yet he couldn't help but feel enraged. He slammed his spoon back down and looked up at Bulma. The silence thickened the air.

"Look, woman. I don't know what you think is going on, but you're wrong. I have no interest in what you're offering". With that he rose from his seat, ready to walk away.

Bulma wasn't ready to let him escape so she jumped to plan B - persuasion. Knowing that Vegeta did find her physically attractive, he was a male after all.

"Is that right?" she said as she softly stroked his hard bicep "Ok", she whispered as she fixated on his eyes. She felt his muscle tense under her touch and she felt a rush of excitement herself. She couldn't think straight at that moment and she decided to push Vegeta to a new level.

Her breathing slowly increased as she felt the heat radiating from Vegeta's olive skin. He hadn't moved from her touch, he only remained still and expressionless. He stared at her closely.

_Now or never,_ Bulma thought as she slowly closed the gap between them. She arched her head to the right and moved in, gently pressing her soft lips against Vegeta's.

She felt Vegeta freeze under her touch and she guessed he was a little agitated, but she kept her eyes closed tight as the kiss lingered. His lips were sweet but there was no movement, it was merely a peck on the lips; although Bulma could not deny the sparks she felt. Her skin began to tremble and her stomach fluttered as she realised her courageous act was going nowhere.

Determination remained as she pressed against Vegeta; waiting until he returned the kiss. She'd never been turned down by any man before and wasn't prepared to face the humiliation now. With her arms by her side, she realised this was surely the worst kiss she'd ever had and before she faced the facts, she felt a pair of warm hands on her shoulders and Vegeta detached her lips from his.

There bodies were now separated and Bulma felt the blood rush pulse around her entire face as the embarrassment flooded her being. Vegeta held on to Bulmas shoulders and stared deeply into her eyes with a look of surprise, searching. Bulma looked up at Vegetas eyes, darting across her face and detected the same look he had given her the couple of weeks previous. He looked lost and was looking to her as if for support. It frightened a fraction of her but she wanted to know what was running through his mind.

Vegeta wanted nothing more than to leave, but her arousal filled his veins and send him higher than he'd ever felt. He stared into her eyes, half in disbelief that she had in fact come back for him. She _wanted _him. His confidence shot through the roof at the thought.

Bulma opened her mouth to sigh, _here we go again_, she thought with the realisation that Vegeta would never open up to her. Before she could release a breath, Vegeta roughly closed the gap between them and crashed his lips against hers; crushing her in to a harsh embrace.

The passion burned the air and Vegetas hands slipped down Bulmas back. Bulma felt paralysed with shock but she instantly flowed into the passion of the kiss as their tongues intertwined in a rapid rhythm.

Vegetas hands searched frantically and grabbed every curve and bump on Bulmas body as he felt the heat pumping through his veins. Bulma pulled her head away to gasp before Vegeta grabbed her hair; pulling her back in to the kiss.

_Oh my Kami..._Bulma repeated in her head over and over as she pulled and tugged on Vegetas hair; her palms sweaty with excitement. The kiss was rough and their teeth clashed on several occasions but Bulma had never been so aroused in her life! A fire burned within her stomach as she lost control of her hands.

Vegeta couldn't form any precise thoughts, but he knew he wasn't close enough to her. No matter how much of her he grabbed of touched, he wasn't satisfied enough. He wanted her closer to him; he wanted to feel the inside of her. The excitement was killing him, so with quick and rough action he lifted Bulma up by her waist and threw her on to the table, with a thump.

The pain soared up Bulmas coccyx but her mind was far from preoccupied as she wrapped her legs around Vegetas waist.

His hands roamed across her lower back, helping her keep a steady balance as he began to slowly press his hardness into her. He moved back and forth in a rhythmic motion as the kiss continued, the only thing separating their union was the thin piece of material clothing they wore.

Bulmas t-shirt rolled up above her thighs as Vegeta continually pressed against her centre. With every thrust she felt a shudder of pleasure shoot up her spine, causing her to arch her back and throw her head back; breaking the kiss.

Her face began to moisten with the heat of the passion. She released her hands from his hair and slammed them both on to the table so that she could support herself. Vegeta took the opportunity and ran his hands down her chest, rubbing and caressing her breasts and stomach, while slipping the kiss down her long neck.

The heat between them was becoming too much and Bulmas moist hand slipped, knocking the bowl of trifle off the table to smash on to the tiled floor. She looked down at the mess while Vegeta continued to work his magic. Her mind was clouded with the pleasure and the principle.

She lifted Vegetas head up and gasped "I need to clean tha..." She could barely spit the words out before Vegetas lips crashed against her again; almost knocking her off balance.

_He really is determined_, she thought as his tongue swirled around her mouth. Her mind clouded once more and she grabbed either side of Vegetas face and deepened the kiss. She wasn't going to let him have _complete _control now, was she?

His hands slipped down her front and to the top of her laced underwear, teasing her and causing her to gasp. As he slipped a hand down her underwear she couldn't stop her muscles from tightening, half in excitement and half in fear. She was nervous about what was happening because she was already completely stimulated and exhausted; her breathing erratic.

He could barely feel the moist warmth of her centre before he heard a piercing voice from the other end of the room.

"Honey, what was that noise...Oh my! I'm sorry dear" squealed Bunny as she quickly exited the kitchen.

Both Bulma and Vegeta froze and stared into each other's eyes; neither blinking.

Bulma was the first to move and she removed Vegetas scorching hand from her underwear. She felt completely mortified from what her mother must have witnessed and she could only hope that Bunny would keep quiet, _doubtful._

Vegeta took a step back from Bulma and they both panted momentarily from the activity before he composed himself and read into Bulmas flustered face. Her arousal was no longer apparent and he guessed that was that. He felt less humiliated than her as the anger flew over more than anything else.

_How dare that woman interrupt me!_

He had to finish what he started and he looked back in to Bulmas aqua eyes, noticing an apologetic look on her face.

Bulma knew far too well that the mood was killed in this worst case scenario and all she could do was look at Vegeta and shrug, "Sorry..." she said as she looked down at the floor.

She was slightly surprised at Vegeta's reaction; he simply nodded and stormed out of the kitchen without any immediate fuss.

The kitchen was a bomb site once again and Bulma let out a heavy sigh, half in relief and half in disappointment. She dropped her head in the knowledge that the golden moment that was once in her grasp, had slipped through her nimble fingers.

* * *

><p>An hour had passed since they entangled in a humiliating predicament and Vegeta resigned to his room. He lay with his arms behind his head, still warm from the activities of the night.<p>

Negative thoughts swam around his head while he glared at the white ceiling. What was he thinking? He knew this would only get in the way of what he truly desired and what was most important to him. Yet she took his control with a click of her fingers. He had shamed himself, he grunted as he rolled over to look out the window.

Her annoyance and distractions were becoming too much for him, despite the fact that he desired her body so much. If he could simply take her, he would. That would be too easy for him and he knew it would be impossible for her to accompany him in physical activities and nothing more. He saw how she was with the weakling and frankly, it made him feel sick. What man trails after a woman like that? Not him. He was a prince and wanted nothing from this pathetic excuse of a planet. Not even her damn body.

A part of Vegeta wondered why she hadn't followed him up and finished what they had started, but that only consumed a small fraction of his subconscious. He knew what he had to do and leaving seemed to be the only plausible option. He wouldn't leave the planet, just this house; for a while at least.

His focus was off and he had barely progressed in the past month. He wanted to resume his training as if none of this nonsense had happened at all and the only way he could achieve this was to keep a fair distance away from that wretched woman.

With that thought, his mind settled. Knowing that he would wake up in a couple of hours to grab supplies and leave this damn place. Getting back on track and pushing harder than before was his only desire. The GR was a pro but there were too many cons weighing him down. So he would leave in the morning. He didn't know where he would go, but anywhere was better than here.

The kitchen sparkled when Bulma had finished sweeping and mopping. She wasn't used to cleaning up but she felt it was the least she could do for her mother.

Who was she kidding, she knew she'd make the kitchen gleam in the hopes that her mother would forget about what her tired eyes had seen. She wouldn't let her mother start spreading gossip around, especially when it was non-existent to begin with.

Bulma had enjoyed the thrill she got from Vegeta, but she didn't want it to burden her mind. It was obvious that Vegeta was a hard nut to crack and she didn't have the time or patience to chip away at his hard exterior, just to be disappointed and let down.

She looked at her watch and gasped as it indicated 3:30am. _Shit, I really do need to get some sleep_, she thought as she looked around at her accomplishment.

She had to walk past Vegeta's room to get to her own, but she kept her composure and walked straight past without batting an eyelid. The thought of walking in and jumping on him did cross her mind and she desperately wanted to have another feel of his rippling chest muscles; knowing how much it turned him on.

Bulma paused as she reached her room, realising what had happened. She and Vegeta had made out. On the kitchen table. At three in the morning. _Oh Kami..._she thought in embarrassment. What if it did in fact get out and all her friends were in knowledge of the whole thing?

She shuddered at the thought, knowing Yamcha wouldn't take it too lightly; but what could he do exactly? He had Emi now and was 'blissfully' happy, apparently. So what if her and Vegeta made out a little, he was an exceptionally sexy man; it was just a shame about his personality...and maybe the fact that he was practically the same size as her. He made up for that in his strength...and hair height.

For once in Bulmas life, she had let a man take control of her and she had never experienced such a thrill in her life. When she would make out with Yamcha, he would be over gentle and let her take control; which she didn't mind.

She misjudged Vegeta completely, she thought he may have been inexperienced, but she guessed there was a lot about him that she didn't know. The thought of sleeping with Vegeta fluttered around her head as she jumped in to her own bed. She assumed that what happened before was only a taste of what he could _really_ do and she couldn't help but perspire at the thought.

She was only left wanting more but she wouldn't chase after him, not at all. Bulma had plenty of things to do, rather than chase after a superficial cretin such as Vegeta.

_Urgh. _She thought as her mind bounced back and forth with what to do. One minute she was pretty sure she wanted nothing to do with Vegeta, the next her mind would trail off into more sexual fantasies about him. Sleeping would only lure the sexual dreams out and she always felt embarrassed when she awoke.

Bulma reached over for her book, knowing that a good horror story would surely curb her mind away from these invading thoughts. As she flicked through the pages she became fully aware that she wasn't taking any of the words from the page into her mind. She blankly turned page after page in stubborn frustration before slamming the book shut and throwing it across the room.

Her mind was crammed with thoughts and her concentration was completely out the window. She flumped on to her pillow and watched the ceiling while trying to figure out what the _hell_ was going on.

_C'mon Bulma, this is ridiculous. He's just a man, well Saiyan._

A dick.

Why would you waste your time on such an idiot?

She rolled over and concluded that the events of the night did _not _take place and that she needed to get a grip. Besides, she could only imagine that Vegeta would keep a fair distance for a while. She followed the 'rubber band' theory with guys like Vegeta, knowing that he would eventually come springing back to her again. Then maybe...

_What the fuck Bulma?_

There you go again!

She thought harshly to herself, gripping on to her bed sheets. She could only await the morning.

* * *

><p>That morning, Bulma was graced with an empty kitchen, just as clean as she left it. <em>Vegeta must have overslept<em>, she thought as her mother entered from the sitting room. Bulma instantly looked at the floor like a naughty puppy as her mother casually strolled in with her usual gleaming face.

"Oh! You're up!" She said as she approached Bulma.

"Yeah...Dad up?" she quickly chose a subject that her mother would happily talk about.

"Yes dear. He's been up since 5am!" She gasped "He was helping Vegeta and making sure he was fully equipped for his little adventure. Boys and their adventures!" She shouted as she headed for the oven.

Bulma wasn't quite sure she heard right, so she tried to get some more information from her mother. "Vegeta is gone? Did he say where he was going?" she questioned without trying to sound surprised.

Bunny turned around and placed a finger on her chin.

"Hmmm...Your father said something about him needing to get away from here for a while...But he didn't say where or how long Mr Vegeta would be gone for." She looked at her daughter, knowing that she would miss her new man and she could only feel sympathetic. "Don't worry dear, he'll be back soon enough!" she exclaimed with a wink which instantly sent shivers down Bulmas spine.

"Um. Yeah mom. I just needed to know, now I have time to work on the GR without him troubling me" She stated in an overly confident tone, while her face pulsed.

Bunny could only laugh at her daughter, knowing how in love she much be. It only seemed like yesterday when she and Mr Briefs started dating and she knew that any time apart was soul destroying.

"If that's what you kids call it these days!" she concluded as she pulled out a tray of freshly baked ginger bread men from the oven.

Bulma knew her mother would act childish but she was more concerned about the fact that Vegeta had gone into hiding again; only this time he'd left Capsule Corp. A part of Bulma felt angry, although she expected this much. Whether or not he came back wouldn't be her concern, he was a guest in the house and it was only a matter of time before he got up and left. A weight lifted off her shoulders as she knew she could get on with things without having to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

She would make some changes. First, she would socialise more and keep in touch with her friends. Secondly, she would do something with this hair! Maybe it was time to straighten things up. Thirdly, she would expand her mind and create some new inventions, with the help of her father. She hadn't spoken to her father much recently and she did feel a bit betrayed that he would go behind her back to help Vegeta, but honestly she was relieved Vegeta was out of her hair for however long he decided to vanish for.

Bulma resigned from all thoughts besides food. She gracefully walked over to her mother with a huge grin on her face and took one of the warm smiling men from the baking tray. She nibbled on its sweetness and could only look forward to the days ahead.


	7. Unexpected Encounter

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 7  
><span>Unexpected Encounter<span>

* * *

><p>The long winter resumed stubbornly as each blade of grass became encrusted with tiny diamonds, glistening in the arctic air. The atmosphere was bleak and silent, no birds singing a sweet melody, no chattering amongst the public and no rumbling from the cars of the obnoxious business men who passed continuously throughout the day. The deep glowing sun loomed in the morning sky, peering in to the thick glazed glass of the Capsule Corp ground laboratory.<p>

Bulma sat in the lab patiently, tilting her head slightly and letting the soft warm rays of sun caress her skin. A sense of accomplishment and pride washed over her being as she'd finally finished re-programming the GR. She looked down at the blue prints in her hands and smiled triumphantly, _I could frame these_, she thought as she held the pieces of paper up in the sun light.

Bulma sighed before walking over to the filing drawer and placed them in a slot along with her numerous successes.

The gravity room could now withstand a maximum of 900G. It had a whole new motherboard, more efficient defence and offense systems, an emergency panic button on the interior and exterior and more obstacles; just to make things that bit harder.

Bulma finally felt satisfied. She scratched her head and pondered, while gazing around at the scientific apparatus around the room. After a few moments she shook her head in disbelief and walked out and towards the sitting room.

The room was deadly silent as Bulma slugged her way in and slumped on to the pale blue puffy sofa. As she oozed into the cushions and flicked on the T.V she couldn't help but reflect on the past two months. For one, Vegeta hadn't returned, she wasn't too concerned about that but it did play around her mind once or twice a day. Christmas seemed all too quick and blurry, Bulma tried her hardest to repress the memories but once again, the infectious thoughts came creeping into her conscious state.

Christmas was focused on time with her family and friends of course, and it wasn't the most thrilling holiday season. Bulma found that as each year past, the Christmas holiday season got more and more monotonous. In fact, it began to irritate her and she felt like some sort of scrooge character now-a-days. But she'd shrug it off as Bunny always found that time of year to be the most exhilarating time of her life and Bulma would smile behind gritted teeth to please her neurotic mother.

It was merely a family day and nothing wild had taken place, it was actually quite pleasant spending time with her parents. Bulma and her dad had been working non-stop together for the past two months but to spend a whole day without it being work related was new to Bulma and she accepted it with open arms.

Bulma sat up attentively to gaze at the T.V screen, as an old Bruce Lee film was just starting. _Great_, she thought as she slumped back into the sofa. Any sort of fighting reminded her of the man who ran away, ran away from _her._ She wouldn't be overly concerned about Vegeta, but she felt guilty for his abrupt exit, she did seduce the poor guy and made him feel so uncomfortable that he had to get the hell out of there. It _had _been two months and Bulma couldn't deny the efforts she'd put into re-programming the one thing he obsessed over at his time in Capsule Corp.

Why would she do that?

Bulma gazed idly at the white ceiling and twiddled her thumbs as her mind dipped into more memories. In six hours Goku and Chichi would arrive for dinner and she hadn't even considered what to eat, she'd probably order in; at least that way she wouldn't have to slave away to satisfy Gokus appetite.

Her heart thudded to the bottom of her chest as she recollected what had made her repeal any light over the past two months. _Yamcha, _she thought with a heavy sigh.

They promised to be civil in each other's company and it was proving to be a comfortable proposition, now that he had Emi. Yamcha and Emi were madly in love and nothing could steer them apart, not that Bulma even thought of Yamcha in that way, whatsoever. Although a week before Christmas, Bulma decided that she hadn't seen or spoken to her old friend since the party she threw in October; deciding a visit would be necessary for their friendship to survive.

She thoughtfully invited herself over to his place for a change of scenery and he more than willingly accepted her offer. Bulma sat up straight and frowned at the memory which was about to re-emerge from her repression.

_Bulma and Yamcha had been conversing, drinking and reminiscing about their_ _fantastical past adventures together; and how they remembered how strange Goku was as a little kid._

_She giggled at the memories as she glanced around Yamchas sitting room, noticing that everything was bland. The walls were cream as was the furniture._

Urgh_**,**__ she shrugged. On top of the cream DVD cabinet was a picture of Yamcha and Emi on a beach, Emi wearing a little red swim suit and smiling gleefully at Yamcha; while his eyes were elsewhere. Confusion flew over Bulma as she looked back at her dumbfounded friend. She reached for her glass of white wine and took an elegant sip._

_"So, where's Emi?" She questioned in a serious tone._

_Yamcha stared at his blue haired friend, startled that she was asking such a question, and so bluntly. Maybe the alcohol was getting to her already._

_"Haha. She's at her house of course. You didn't think we lived together, did you?" He said playfully as he stared into Bulmas inquisitive eyes._

_Bulma swung her head around to take another look at the decor and furniture arrangements, to make it seem blatantly obvious what she was suggesting. Her glistening eyes returned to Yamchas expressionless features; waiting for him to catch on…But he didn't._

_"So you're telling me that_ you _planned the interior design of this place?" she pointed at the walls and raised her eye brow._

_Yamcha couldn't help but laugh at the blue haired beauty which sat beside him, on his cream sofa._

_"Yeah, that was_ all _Emi" he spoke with a sigh and rolled his eyes._

_"Thought so." Bulma stated with a sarcastic twist to her voice._

_As Bulma placed her glass back on to the coffee table, she felt a pair of eyes boring in to her skull and she became fully aware of the thick silence which began to fill her lungs. As she slumped back into the sofa, she glanced over at Yamcha who was staring the way he used to stare when they were dating; the type of stare which led on to a certain physical activity. Bulma quickly diverted her attention to the picture on the cabinet and pointed a shaky finger towards it._

_"So, when was this taken? I didn't know you two had been on holiday? Where'd you go?" She smiled nervously._

_Yamcha quickly glanced at the picture, causing him to sigh._

_"That's on Miami beach. We went about a month ago. It was swell…" He muttered as his eyes dropped to the floor._

_Bulma tried to override the disappointment in his tone but she came to Yamchas as a friend and friends talk about their problems with one another. Plus she couldn't deny a bit of gossip, maybe something juicy and delicious had happened, although, judging by the look Yamcha had given her earlier, she doubted she desired to know the information. But Bulma was Bulma, so she enquired._

_"Yamcha? What's the problem?" She said as sincerely as she could, while looking pitifully at the man she once dated._

_His eyes parted from the floor and met Bulmas, with a sad yet adorable façade._

_"I dunno, B." He sighed, "Emi is great and I'm happy being with her…Just not happy enough."_

_At that moment Bulma felt a thud in her chest as a glimmer appeared in Yamchas eyes. She knew how cliché and pathetic she was about to sound but she wanted to distract his mind from such ridiculous obscenities._

_"Have you tried speaking to her about it? Y'know, find the root of the problem…" She stated._

_"Not really. She wants to move in but I keep pushing her away. I don't know if I could handle living with her." He said casually, while taking a swig of Budweiser._

_Bulma placed a finger to her chin, knowing full well what was happening. It was déjà vu, or a similar scenario at least. They showed similarities to her relationship with Yamcha, which settled Bulmas mind._

At least it wasn't me, _she thought with a sigh._

"_Well, it's understandable." She stated, "You've only been dating for a while. No rush." Bulma smiled sweetly at Yamcha hoping he would change the subject but he continued on, regardless._

_"No, it's not that" He said coldly._

_"What is it then?" Bulma couldn't hide the notion of fear she was getting._

_"I don't know if I can do it anymore…" He stared at the cream carpet beneath his feet as the words trailed out of his mouth._

_Bulma automatically gulped and rolled her eyes. Yamcha didn't know the drivel which was pouring out of his mouth and Bulma couldn't soberly justify why he was doing this. Sympathy blossomed in Bulmas heart, pushing her to comfort Yamcha, but she didn't want him to get the wrong idea. The fact was, old feelings began to bubble in Bulmas heart, even though she had almost forgotten about her and Yamchas relationship. Whatever game he was playing with her now, wasn't fair but Bulma couldn't be cruel to her first love. All she could feel was sympathy. Maybe she was feeling more, but she couldn't place it in her current inebriated state._

_"Yamcha. It's probably just a bump in the road. You two are great together, you'll be fine." She said, a yawn following. "I think it's bed time for me. I'll have to call a taxi" She reached over for her phone, which rested on the arm of the sofa._

_Yamcha blinked and glanced down at his watch._

_"Yeah, gosh it's late, haha…" He laughed nervously while scratching his head through his thick mane._

_As Bulma gathered her things and made her way to the door, she felt Yamcha grab her wrist, causing her to spin around in a dazed motion. She blinked a couple of times as she saw the sadness reflecting from Yamchas eyes, he stole all her thoughts as he stared in to her cerulean eyes. The heat radiated from his hand as it gripped tightly around Bulmas wrist. All Bulma could do was stare back at him in amazement._

_"B?" He whispered faintly._

_"Yamcha?" She muttered drunkenly, with a faint frown across her flawless features._

_"It was great seeing you again…I missed_ this…us_**. **__Y'know?" He pulled her frame closer._

_Bulma felt paralysed and overwhelmed with confusion. She knew where this act was going but was she willing to do it? Or was it just the alcohol pulling the strings in her mind?_

_She took a deep breath and removed her hand from Yamchas grip, before politely adding._

_"Yeah, me too." She said with an awkward smile._

_In Yamchas mind, that was Bulma confirming that she felt the same. So he quickly dove in to kiss her sweet cherry lips once again; placing his hands delicately around her waist._

_Bulma didn't entirely expect anything physical and she took the whole thing by surprise. She slowly closed her eyes as her hands ran on to Yamchas back; the kiss soft and slow. As Yamcha caressed Bulmas waist and hips, he felt complete and satisfied once again; he had missed her touch and her smell._

_They held each other loosely as the kiss continued. Bulmas hands roamed across Yamchas back, slowly twisting the cloth of his t-shirt between her fingers. The kiss was, well, lifeless. Bulma used the opportunity to clarify her feelings for Yamcha and even amongst the drunken confusion, Bulma knew, there were no sexual or romantic feelings anymore. She even compared the kiss to the one she and Vegeta had shared, comparing how wild and powerful the pair were. This was nice, but it wasn't what Bulma wanted and she certainly didn't want to be the girl who made out with someone else's boyfriend; she was better than that._

_At that moment Bulma heard a car pull up outside the house and detached her lips from Yamchas. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she realised the look of sheer joy on Yamchas face. What had she done to him? She was hurting him more so._

Damn alcohol!

_Yamchas look of glee soon faded as Bulma turned on the water works, but before he could question she lifted a hand up and placed it on her forehead._

_"No." She stated truthfully, "I'm sorry Yamcha, I don't know what I was thinking" She spoke in a croaky voice, before bending forward and giving Yamcha a soft and sincere peck on the cheek._

_"Talk to Emi." She said before brushing past him and walking out the front door; regrets flooding her veins._

Bulma hadn't spoken to Yamcha since and as far as she knew, he was still dating Emi. It was something about that particular day which injected Bulma with the drive to have a complete make-over; even though she had promised herself months ago.

A change and a new look made Bulma feel free and a new person, yeah she was still the same beauty, but she _felt _a lot better. Not just physically, Bulma felt as if her conscience was cleared and she could start a fresh.

Inviting Chichi and Goku round for dinner was all part of her new start; socialise more.

Bulma stood in front of the full length mirror in her bed room. She looked at herself from head to toe, happy with her appearance. Her hair was now pin straight and sat elegantly on her shoulders and her bangs hung down from either side of her face. She began to wear a bit more make-up, just a touch of pink lipstick, nothing too over the top. She still looked completely natural and felt amazing as she spun around; letting her hair flow freely around her face.

Goku and Chichi would arrive in approximately half an hour. Bulma still couldn't decide what to wear as she remained in her lab jacket and plain black pants. It _was_only Goku and Chichi but she still loved putting the effort into looking fantastic.

She strolled over to her wardrobe and flung the doors wide open, revealing an extensive amount of clothing, from evening dresses to casual wear. Bulma quickly placed a finger to her chin while gazing at the brimming closet. A certain casual yet feminine outfit caught her eye and she instantly clasped on to the item and ragged it out the closet; lining it up against her frame. It was a deep blue, short sleeved cardigan dress with intricate detail sewn down the left side.

She nodded, deciding that was the right outfit for the occasion and ran in to the en-suite to quickly freshen up and change.

As she ran the tap, she wondered whether Goku knew about Vegetas disappearance or whether he could sense his ki. _Surely,_ she concluded. Goku could sense ki from neighbouring planets so he could obviously seek out Vegeta, seeing as he remained somewhere on earth. Bulma was tempted to locate him herself, but she didn't want to lower her own pride; she could be just as stubborn as he was. Besides, she was far too busy to be messing around for _his_ sake. If Vegeta wanted to be alone, he could be as far as she was concerned.

With that Bulma briskly twisted the tap and began to splash her face with the warm water; drowning her thoughts.

Goku and Chichi arrived an hour late which was extremely surprising, seeing as Goku only had to use his instant transmission and he would appear in a flash. Bulma guessed there was a domestic issue between the two but only Chichi managed to show it.

They arrived a couple of yards apart from each other and Chichi held a deep scowl and a look of fire in her eyes as she stomped her way through the hall and into the dining room. Bulma stepped back in shock and eyed Goku warily.

"What have you done this time, huh?" She said as she gave him mental daggers.

The tall Saiyan laughed nervously and placed his hands in his jeans pocket.

_Wait…Jeans? As in DENIM? _

Her eyes widened as she took in his casual attire. Before Goku could get a word in Bulma continued.

"So. What's with the new get up?" She smirked and pointed at the jeans.

Goku raised an eyebrow before following Bulmas line of vision.

"What's wrong with my pants?" He said nervously while feeling the material on each leg.

"Nothing is _wrong _with them!" she laughed, "It's just weird seeing you in normal clothes, that's all".

Goku stared at Bulma for a moment before registering the right time to laugh, "Yeah, I guess it is!" he said and walked past Bulma, down the hall and into the dining room.

Bulma watched her oldest friend as he stalked after his wife and she couldn't help but smile at the completely contrasting couple. They worked well, despite Chichis tendency to take many _many _things too seriously.

Bulma didn't even think to ask why Chichi was mad, the fact was Chichi was always mad; yet Goku always seemed to cope with it and Chichi managed to cope with Gokus unusual behaviour. They were pretty solid, she concluded.

When Bulma made her way into the dining room with cold drinks, Goku and Chichi were sitting beside each other but Chichi was facing with her back to Goku; but he seemed completely oblivious with a huge welcoming grin plastered across his face. Chichi accepted her drink and took a sly sip, eyeing him from the corners. Bulma held back a chuckle and sat down opposite the pair.

Goku looked at Bulma, twiddling his thumbs impatiently.

"So…What are we eating, Bulma?" He said while searching round and through to the empty kitchen; hoping something was prepared.

"I've just ordered a Chinese banquette from the take-away in town." She said happily, trying to ignore the tension in the room.

"Oo. Great!" He replied.

She glanced over at Chichi, then back at Goku and bit down hard on to her bottom lip. The tension was killing her and she certainly didn't invite her friends around to act like children. She pouted and sighed heavily as she eyed the pair.

Then she caved.

"What's up with you guys? I didn't invite you for dinner so you could be anti-social and miserable…Well, not you Goku. You seem happy, but Chichi, what's wrong?" She said as she watched her stubborn friend.

Both Bulma and Goku waited patiently for Chichi to reply. All they received was a snarl and she turned a little more, so her back was now facing both of them.

"What the hell, Chichi?" Bulma said in amazement before looking at Goku for the answers, "Goku…?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno. She's been like this all day", He said in a relatively serious tone.

At that moment Chichi spun around and pointed an aggressive finger at her Saiyan husband.

"You wouldn't have the first clue what I've been like _all_ day because you have been out training with Gohan and that _horrible _green man!" She breathed, "Every day! Do you know how much studying my Gohan _could_ be doing and you've taken him away to teach him how to _fight!"_she wailed as she pulled a tissue to her face and sobbed heavily in to it.

Goku watched his wife in complete shock; unaware of the emotional strain she was feeling.

He placed a gentle hand on her back.

"Gosh, Chichi. I didn't know it was such a problem, but we need to train hard for when the androids arrive. The world depends on us…We'll just have to compromise, I guess" He said as he rubbed her back.

Bulma gazed at the pair in amazement; her mouth hanging open.

Chichi began to sniffle as she lifted her head up to look at Goku.

"I guess that's ok but you have to promise me Goku!" She exclaimed, "No more late night training, under any circumstances!" She spoke harshly as she placed the damp tissue back in her pocket. Goku quickly nodded and resumed to twiddle his thumbs.

_What the…_Bulma thought as she realised what she'd just witnessed. The most trivial fight she'd ever seen; yet it was rapidly resolved!

Bulma felt the laughter pushing up her throat and couldn't help but let it escape out of her mouth. She quickly clasped on to her mouth as the couple turned to stare at her, confused. Before they could ask, Bulma waved her hand in a dismissive gesture and the pair ultimately shrugged and looked at one another.

Bulma chuckled; _they think I'm the childish one!_ She thought amused before taking a gulp of lemonade.

The evening continued smoothly as the trio moved into the sitting room; chatting continuously about various topics. Goku seemed satisfied with the mountain of food he had consumed as he playfully flicked through the five hundred channels on the T.V; his eyes engrossed in the flashing images. He kept one hand on his bulging stomach as he managed to consume over fifteen portions of chicken chow mein in a record breaking ten minutes.

Bulma and Chichi spoke openly about the past two months and Bulma may have let slip about the whole 'Yamcha situation'. Chichi found the whole story plausible and told her friend to keep a clear head.

"He's no good for you Bulma, you know that." She said while watching her husband, perplexed.

"Yeah, I know that. I'm not stupid…I was just drunk, plain simple." She stated as she folded her arms across her chest.

She didn't want to accept the mistake she had made, but the fact that Yamcha hadn't spoken to her since that evening suggested that maybe what she did do cleared the air?

Chichi refrained from glaring at her husband and looked over at Bulma, knowing it was the right time to change the subject.

"I'm thinking about putting Goku forward for his driver's licence, it's about time he took me shopping for groceries. It's a five mile walk to the nearest town!" She exclaimed.

At that moment Goku twisted his head and frowned at Chichi, in clear disagreement with the subject.

"Awh, Chichi-" He complained with a voice full of sorrow.

"No, Goku!" she shouted, "You need to do your driver's test, everyone else can drive. You're just lazy…" She smirked at Bulma knowing it would provoke a positive reaction.

Goku blinked, bewildered by her suggestion. He wasn't _lazy_, heck he'd already saved the world twice and she was moaning about a driver's licence? _Sheesh_, he thought as he glanced over at Bulma who was chuckling quietly to herself.

"I could teach to drive, Goku." Bulma casually suggested while waving her hand.

Chichi clasped her hands together with joy as she grinned at her friend. "What a great idea, Bulma!" she exclaimed gleefully.

Goku frowned at Bulma, knowing she was prolonging the subject. So he simply answered.

"OK. Yeah, great", with a sincere smile.

Both women ceased their casual banter and looked over at Goku in amazement, before quickly shaking it off and continuing to chat amongst one another.

Bulma had missed a bit of banter, she only had her parents to keep her company and they were busy the majority of the time. She didn't want to admit it, but she _did_miss Vegeta and as the days went by, she grew a soft spot for the imprudent Saiyan. Maybe that was because he wasn't around and she didn't have to withstand his obnoxious behaviour at all.

She itched in her seat, wanting to ask Goku if he could sense Vegetas ki. The temptation was killing her but she didn't want to rouse any suspicion. _Wait, _she thought. There was nothing to be suspicious about, although she supposed Chichi wouldn't take the question too lightly as she hated Vegeta with a burning passion. Consequently, Bulma shrugged it off and continued to listen to Chichis chatter.

The conversations continued through into the night and the group were each beginning to get tired. Goku in particular.

Chichi and Bulma managed to attain a few words from him but he was far too preoccupied with the WWF on the T.V. Causing both women to sigh and laugh. Chichi began to muse at her husband while placing a finger to her chin. She craved the thrill of an argument but Goku found it hard to reciprocate the fire, he merely backed down when it came to any conflict with his wife.

Bulma watched the T.V screen blankly as the rather robust men jumped on top of each other continuously. _Men,_ she thought as she rolled her eyes which landed on Gokus sturdy frame. That's when Chichi started.

"So, Goku" she said in a calm voice "You can start learning to drive tomorrow. The sooner the better" she stated with a sly smirk.

Goku slowly arched his head towards his wife and sighed. _Not this again,_he thought in protest.

"But Chichi…" He said.

Bulma watched in amusement as she knew Chichi wouldn't let the matter rest. She had no objection with teaching Goku how to drive and found the whole situation rather entertaining.

After a few seconds of silence, Goku immediately snapped his head up, looked towards the kitchen and exclaimed.

"Oh, hey Vegeta!" With a fantastic grin smacked across his face.

Both women immediately spun round to see the other Saiyan who was leaning in to the room.

"Man, you look rough…" added Goku.

Bulma gasped as she took in Vegetas frame. His clothes were completely torn from head to toe, all the colour had been drained from his previous olive tone skin; he had scars, grazes and burns all over his muscular body. He looked like he'd been washed ashore.

He slowly lifted his head and formed the faintest frown towards a bewildered Goku before glancing over at Bulma. His onyx eyes locked with her wide eyed expression as he gripped on to the door frame for support.

The silence engulfed the room as the group gawped at Vegeta who was currently staring at Bulma. She watched attentively as he began to open his mouth.

The only sound he could produce was a harsh grunt before he plummeted to the ground; unconscious.

At that moment Bulma immediately rose to her feet and ran over to the injured Saiyan; completely forgetting that he had been missing for two months.

"Vegeta!" she exclaimed as she frantically knelt down beside his battered frame.

Goku stood up and joined her as she checked around his neck for a pulse.

Before staring up and Goku in anger.

"Couldn't you sense his ki?" She said as the anger flew over her.

"I could, but it was so low. I would never have guessed it was _Vegeta_." He said sincerely before kneeling beside Bulma. "He's beaten up pretty bad, but he's still alive. He's one tough nut to crack!"

Gokus words send a wave of relief over Bulma as she let her hands drop to her side. She gazed at Vegetas broken frame, _what have you done to yourself? _She thought as shelooked at the multiple cuts and bruises across his back_. _She wanted to feel angry but all she could do was help the perplexing Saiyan that lay before her.

She looked at Goku and they both nodded at one another before reaching over and lifting Vegetas arms over their shoulders.

Chichi remained on the sofa, completely unimpressed by the situation. She had no concern for Vegetas wellbeing, for all she cared that little monkey could rot in hell. All the trouble he had caused yet Goku always rambled on about the 'good' deep within him. She knew Goku was merely kidding himself so she remained detached and focused her attention on the T.V screen.

As Bulma and Goku rose to their feet, Vegeta murmured once more causing Goku to smile a little.

Bulma eyed her friend before asking.

"What did he say?" she questioned orderly.

Goku quickly looked away from Bulma but the smile remained across his face.

"Oh, nothing important" He spoke in almost a whisper.

Goku knew that something was going to happen between the Bulma and Vegeta but he didn't know it would happen so soon. Vegeta had faintly whispered Bulmas name, which she mustn't have picked up. Goku assumed that Vegeta had mustered up some feelings towards his aqua haired friend; meaning everything was going accordingly.

Bulma shook off the inquisition as she felt the warmth of Vegetas skin on hers once again. Now wasn't the time, but she enjoyed having him close to her after so long.

_Oh God..._

She'd tried to ignore it for a while now, but she was ready to admit to herself that she had a soft spot for Vegeta and could even go as far as to say she liked the guy. Nothing too serious but she cared deeply for his safety, he showed a slight vulnerability. Bulma and Goku seemed to be the only ones who were able to see it, everyone else complained or coward away from Vegeta, but he was slowly changing. He just needed space and a lot of it.

He'd obviously pushed himself too far once again. She didn't know where he'd been or what he'd been living off but the fact of the matter was…He'd returned, after two months. Why he had returned was another question, which Bulma would ask later. She was just pleased with his sudden appearance; although startled by his current condition.

"We have to get him to the regeneration tank in the lab" She said as she begun to budge forward.

"Right." Goku nodded.

They continued for the lab, carrying the shattered Saiyan Prince who had returned to Capsule Corp on an arctic winter's night.


	8. Clearing the Air

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 8  
><span>Clearing the Air<span>

* * *

><p>Capsule Corporation had been hit with its busiest week to record, between constantly receiving and dispatching orders all over the world. The pressure for new ideas was hitting Dr Briefs hard and he remained cooped up in the lab all day every day. Bulma assisted but spend most of her time in the branch down town. She figured it'd be best for her creativity if she was away from the house, her father and most of all <em>Vegeta. <em>She worked best alone and the situation at home had become more than intolerable. She spent most of her days working twelve-plus hours in the labs across town, working out blue prints for new space crafts, cars, ships; you name it. The majority of the time her mind was elsewhere but she was determined to stay focused and alert, for her own sake.

Bulma grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and swung it over herself in a fierce motion as she braced herself for the outdoors. It was now late February and the winter was drawing to a close, although the wind speed had increased over the past week, making it treacherous for anybody to walk outside. Luckily, Bulma had taken her capsule car and it would only take her a short twenty minute drive till she arrived home. She hadn't eaten for hours and hoped her mum had cooked something divine for her, but knowing her luck, Vegeta will have gotten to the remains first.

As Bulma walked towards her car, she felt the need to embrace the cold air, so she stopped for a moment and took a deep breath; letting the wind weave through her blue bangs. She had been over worked the past couple of weeks and thought it was about time she got a break. _Maybe a holiday is in order, _she thought before quickly dismissing it, knowing that her father would need as much help as he can get with the constant high demands.

Everything around Bulma seemed to piss her off immensely recently, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It certainly wasn't PMS; she'd already had her cycle a week ago, so surely she was well over her monthly mood swings. She anticipated the thought which was haunting her boggled mind, _Vegeta,_she thought again with a heavy sigh and a slight shake of the head. He'd been up and well for the best of three weeks now and things were, well, back to normal. Or at least that's what Bulma wanted to feel, but the fact was, she didn't.

It seemed that wherever or whatever he had been up to for those two months had done the trick for _him_ as he was back to his arrogant and unmanageable self, no doubt. A fraction of Bulma felt deeply saddened by this turn of events as her 'deluded' mind assumed that she and Vegeta were becoming 'close'. She knew he wouldn't exactly come running and crying in to her arms, but she enjoyed the slight notion of desire he had for her and how the sexual tension filled the room whenever they were both present. Now it was like that tiny flicker of emotion he had once shown had been blown away. Vegetas furtive behaviour had been kicked up a notch and it was becoming more than painful. She wanted to know why. Bulma shuddered as she felt a crystal raindrop tap her delicately on the nose and she continued for her car.

As she drove through the town centre, the rain began to batter the car, making it increasingly difficult to focus the road ahead. Bulma squinted, cursing to herself as she raced at fifty miles an hour. As she came to a set of traffic lights she began to ponder once more about the strange Saiyan who had taken up refuge in her house. She raised the facts, she didn't know where he went or what had exactly taken place, but when he returned he was had a thick coating of burns and bruises and a couple of broken bones; which for a Saiyan, was barely anything out of the ordinary.

Although his injuries were quite severe as he had to spend a whole week in the regeneration tank, which Bulma monitored at least eight times a day. The way he returned home…and the way he stared coldly before he passed out…she couldn't remove the image from her mind. It was as if he needed her and she foolishly attended his side. Her father mentioned that he was lucky to survive and that she was good for taking him straight to the regeneration tank. Bulma had lots of questions to ask Vegeta, but the one which was burning violently in her throat was:

Why did he come back?

The traffic lights flicked to green and Bulma snapped out of her train of thought, placed her foot to the floor and raced home as the rain pounded the body of the car.

When Bulma arrived home, soaked to the skin, Bunny was waiting in the kitchen for her with a huge grin from ear to ear.

"Hi dear! I've made you some fresh spaghetti. I know how much you love it!" She said as she swiftly took the hot meal out of the oven and faced Bulma.

The delicious aroma wafted towards Bulma and she couldn't help but salivate slightly.

"Thanks mom, I'm starving." She uttered as she walked over to Bunny and took the plate from her gloved hands.

"Careful dear. The plate is hot!" She exclaimed.

Before Bulma could register her mothers warning, she felt the soaring heat throb in her fingers, causing her to frantically run and throw the plate on the table in one huge lunge. Some of the spaghetti toppled over the edge of the plate but the majority was still intact. Bulma turned around and grinned at her mother, feeling partly humiliated but partly triumphant at her fine accuracy and the ultimate outcome. All Bunny could do was giggle at her daughter and leave the room, knowing Bulma would prefer to be alone after a hard day of work.

Bulma decided she was too tired to change her clothes, so she sat down to gorge on her dinner while it was piping hot. As she devoured the delectable stringy pasta, she could hear the GR humming its monotone drone down the hall. She scoffed with a mouth full of food, spitting fragments on to the table.

_That idiot doesn't even appreciate all the work I went through upgrading and fixing that machine._

She thought viciously as she swallowed; giving mental daggers down the empty hall way.

Vegeta was acting more anti-social than he usually did. There was no more bickering between the two and he would only respond with simple, 'yes' and 'no' answers. Usually Bulma wouldn't stand for it, but Vegeta was miscellaneous and Bulma knew to give him time and space.

_How much time does he need? _

Bulma had taken several tiresome steps back for the sake of his 'pride', but enough was enough. She'd practically saved his life and yet she received no thank you, or any sort of gratitude for that matter. She was disoriented about what had gone on between the two of them. Yeah, they made out, but how can he just bounce from one extreme to the other? One minute he's kissing her, the next he's completely ignoring her. Vegeta was a confusing subject to dwell upon and Bulma thought it best to play him at his own feeble excuse of a game for the time being, but if the opportune time arises, she'll strike, that's for sure.

She placed her fork on the empty plate and proceeded to carry them to the sink. A bath was a divine necessity for Bulma and she knew her day was drawing to a close again, without any real 'Vegeta progresses'. She sighed at the matter and continued for the hall.

As she trudged down the hall she couldn't help but take a sly peek in the GR window.

_There he is_, she thought with a soft sigh.

She would always sympathise deeply for the guy. He was a stranger now, but she couldn't help but gaze upon him as he threw himself violently across one end of the room to the other, dodging his own vicious attacks. His skin had healed perfectly and he was clearly active again. He didn't complain about anything and seemed to hibernate in the GR all day. Come to think about it, Bulma hadn't seen him face to face for an entire week, by the time she would arrive home, he'd have already eaten and made his way back into the GR and Bulma was fast asleep by the time he'd finish.

Bulma watched as he flickered across the dim room, he was extensively passionate about his training. Bulma sighed as she looked at him. At that moment he ceased his training and glared over at Bulma with cold dark eyes. She realised what was initially a 'peek' had turned in to a staring competition, as she locked eyes with the mysterious Saiyan. She knew very well that he had felt her presence as soon as she walked through the door, but she couldn't help but override the knowledge and pretend that he was oblivious of her. She could see his chest moving up and down rhythmically and his mouth half open as he exhaled heavily; it was a turn on to say the least. His eye brows knitted together and his trade mark frown appeared as he watched Bulma.

They engaged in an intense staring contest for a minute or so before Bulma guessed she was only deterring him from his 'precious' training. So, she reluctantly turned her gaze and continued down the hall and to her room for a long awaited coconut bubble bath.

* * *

><p>As soon as her ki flittered away down the hall, Vegeta dropped his shoulders and sighed heavily. The GR had been upgraded substantially and his training programme was more intense and vigorous than ever. He was now working under a strict routine and was beginning to feel the difference. If he managed to steer clear of the wretched woman and isolate himself, he was able to fixate on his training in the GR. Easy.<p>

She was peering through that window far too often and it was becoming laborious to say the least. He could feel her ki every day and the same time. She was out for the majority of the day, but the couple of seconds she _would_gaze through the window, was more than enough for him to handle. He knew she'd upgraded the GR, but also understood that it may have been some sort of ploy to lure him towards her once more.

He couldn't and he wouldn't fall for her charms, like he had before. It was crystal clear now, what he needed to do. If he didn't achieve the super Saiyan transformation soon, he would lose all hope and he'd be damned if an incompetent third class Saiyan such as Kakarrot, would continue to surpass his power.

He walked over to the control panel and let his gloved fingers dance impatiently upon the 'off' and the 'increase' switch. He grew nostalgic of the time he had spent away from Capsule Corp and away from _her._The initial plan was to leave and hopefully find focus elsewhere, but that changed from the moment he left the grounds. He had test himself against the harshest weather and elements this mud ball had to offer and once again his mind slipped; letting the planets conditions get the better of him.

The first place Vegeta attempted to train in was the south of the Antarctic Circle. He presumed the plummeting temperatures and isolation would help curb his thoughts but as he destroyed ice cap after ice cap, his mind would melt away into thoughts of the woman's body, once again. When this _did_ happen he would instinctively throw himself into the deathly ice cold water until his mind was abolished from _all_thoughts. This would repeat every half an hour or so and became tiresome. He was beginning to think that maybe it was all pointless; he pushed himself to the point of passing out on the bank of an eroding glacier. He would wake up two, maybe three days later. Sometimes he would have moved miles away, other times he would remain in the same spot.

The only thing he had gained from that experience was immunity to the bitterly cold weather; he remained there for a month until he felt ready to move on to the next place.

The fact was, he was never ready, he just needed to move somewhere which exposed a greater challenge; something extremely intense. Dr Briefs had packed him all the necessities and he had an abundance of food and clothes. For most nights, he slept in a small, one bedroomed Capsule home which satisfied his basic needs. Other times he would sleep in the outdoors, or he wouldn't sleep at all. The more he let his mind rest the more he would surrender to his body's needs. The occasional times he would sleep, he would dream about her and feel disgusted with his lack of control.

Vegeta pressed the 'exit' button firmly and proceeded out the door and in to the corridor. He anxiously looked both ways before stepping out, he was more concerned about the other woman popping out of thin air and screeching in his face, as she often did. Before concluding that the coast was clear, Vegeta sighed and made his way in to the kitchen for supper. He noticed the empty plate in the sink and assumed she had already eaten, so there was less chance of her needing to burst into the kitchen while he was around.

He glanced at the clock on the far wall, 11:30pm. He could do more training, but he thought it'd be best to eat, sleep and wake up earlier to concentrate for tomorrow. There was a large amount of left over spaghetti in the oven and he didn't think twice to snatch it and feast upon it. As he slurped a string of hot spaghetti, it dropped and crawled over his chin, burning his olive skin. He rapidly grabbed the string and removed it from his face, frowning viciously at the disobedient pasta.

Vegeta thought back to the remaining time he had spent away from Capsule Corp. He chose the destination, specifically knowing how contrasting it was to the previous place. He spent the second month in the depths of the Sahara desert. It wasn't as vast as where he previously trained but the conditions were certainly more intense. He pushed himself harder than he did before, plunging into the sharp sand and facing the most horrific sand storms he'd ever seen. He became increasingly surprised with planet earth, every day it challenged his strength; unyielding from its' strenuous attacks.

The conditions became increasingly unbearable as he pushed harder. The heat distorted his mind and focus, driving him to the point of insanity. As his skin crisped in the thin air and his mouth dried, he began to lose hope and control. The thoughts would flood his mind, particularly in the night time when the temperature plummeted dramatically. He wouldn't give up though, he would continue on and through the cold nights and the scorching days, until his body finally gave up and he surrendered to its hungry call for rest.

After battering himself to a pulp, he slowly drifted in to a deep sleep on a rough gritty bed. He didn't remember much after that. He felt the pain soaring through every inch of his body, but he couldn't recall passing out and wasn't entirely sure how long he was out for. All he did know was, she was the first thing that came to his mind when he awoke. He dismissed the pain immediately and headed to Capsule Corp in a daze; thinking she was his salvation. He now knew that he returned only in the knowledge that the technology to help him regain strength was in her possession, so going back there seemed to be the only option. But his mind was haunted by the fraction of 'need' for her touch, this angered him. He didn't _need_anyone. Let alone that wanton woman!

He could only remember waking up in the regen tank, alone. He remembered Dr Briefs entering the lab and ceasing the power, leaving Vegeta feeling just as strong, if not stronger, than he did before. The whole trip didn't make any considerable changes to Vegeta, but he knew he needed to push himself harder to achieve his ultimate goal. He also knew that _she_was responsible for his lack of progression, but if he didn't see her or come in to contact with her, then the problem shouldn't occur.

_So far so good_, he thought as he finished off the last few strings off spaghetti and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

There was still a fraction of his conscious that thought, maybe if he just had her and got it out of his system, things would resume as they were? But he'd gain more trouble from that vixen, than anything. Besides, the thought of fornicating with an earthling would be a huge blow to his Saiyan heritage. He simply accepted the fact that he was attracted to her, as any male of any species would be. She was an interesting and exceptionally beautiful creature, to look at, and he hated to admit it but they shared a few similarities. Everything else was just…horrific. Her whining would pierce his sensitive ear drums and the way she'd attempt to get his attention was more than antagonising.

* * *

><p>The house was silent when Vegeta eventually retired to his quarters; his body screaming for slumber. His mind wouldn't rest, sleep was a rare luxury for Vegeta and when he did drift off, it would result in either sexual dreams about <em>her <em>or nightmares about his past and failure to regain the top spot. He thought it'd be best to stay up most of the time, at least that way his torment would be of his own accord and he was able to control it. As he lay down on his bed, in pitch darkness, he tried to remember what had happened right before he passed out. He squinted at the ceiling as he forced himself to recollect the events in chronological order.

He _did _recall looking at the woman's concerned features, but a wave of irritation washed over him at a thought he couldn't place…He blinked and his eye lids began to surrender to the darkness, before snapping back open, glaring at the blank ceiling again.

_Kakarrot!_ He thought as he clenched his teeth tightly.

What was Kakarrot doing there when he returned? He sat up at the new found information and pushed his fingers through his thick mane; scowling at the empty room before him. Was she trying to rub it in his face by letting that clown visit? Surely Kakarrot would have sensed his ki on arrival…? He stood up and stretched his powerful arms up towards the ceiling, before continuing to question.

_What was she doing with Kakarrot?_

His veins flooded uncontrollably and he stormed over to the window to gaze upon the empty night sky. There was no sense any more. He didn't have time for the distractions, even when he was away, there were so many distractions.

He couldn't escape.

The isolation was helpful but something would always trigger these _thoughts _and he would begin to _worry. _With that in mind, he plunged his fist into the wall, shattering the cold plaster between his solid knuckles. He felt no pain from the punch, but his thoughts were causing him more pain than anything. Was he _jealous _of Kakarrot? He had surpassed him in regards to strength, now he was hanging around the woman like a bad smell.

In an instant, a smirk grew across Vegetas face, exposing a glimmer of his perfect canines. Despite all the mental torment he had inflicted upon himself, he would happily take the woman, merely to stop Kakarrot exceeding in everything _he_ attempted. He knew Kakarrot and the woman were close and that Kakarrot had a mate, but he was still a male Saiyan and she was…alluring. The fact that Kakarrot had not tried before crossed Vegetas mind, but that clown was inexplicably dim; no wonder, he chose that _hideous_ woman for his mate.

Vegeta chuckled evilly as he removed his fist from the crumbling plaster. His mind was settled, but he wouldn't just _take_ the woman, she would be far too suspicious. He would have to start from scratch and lure her in to his web; she _would_ succumb to his seduction and once he had her, Kakarrot would simply steer clear. Then he would win.

It was two years until the androids would arrive, two years of strict training. The woman situation would have to fit in-between. Vegeta knew when Bulma arrived home from work and what time she foraged through the kitchen, so casually bumping in to her wouldn't be a problem. He knew that once he was finished with her, his training would be more consistent. Although, the longer he waited, the more his mind would wonder.

As he stalked back to his bed, he frowned dangerously at the new thought which popped in to his mind. He would have to act relatively fast and allow himself more time for training. He slowly peeled his spandex shorts off and crawled under the cool crisp sheets; letting the chill caress his every muscle. He placed his arms behind his head and slowly drifted off to sleep.

A sly smirk across his stern features.

* * *

><p>The next morning passed smoothly as Vegeta trudged out of the GR for a quick snack. As he entered the kitchen he quickly glanced at Bulma, who was sitting in her work attire, reading through a magazine and mindlessly chewing the end of a piece of toast.<p>

_Toast_, Vegeta thought with a smirk.

Bulma barely lifted her head, she noticed the panache in his walk, but didn't take much notice of anything else; before quickly resuming to her magazine. Although she _was_surprised when she heard him reach into the bread bin and then gently place a couple of slices into the toaster. Again, she quickly resumed to the pages before her, before he caught on to her palpable amazement.

After a few seconds Vegeta strolled out of the kitchen and into the direction of the GR.

Bulma looked up and over to the toaster.

_He better come back for that, _she thought seriously.

Bulma returned to the page to read an interesting article about a new holographic communication system which was being developed. She simply rolled her eyes, knowing she could create a much better model and in record breaking time, but she didn't want to cause a stir in the scientific industry.

She snickered, for she was a beauty and showed extreme erudite, competing with the best scientists over the world and beyond. At that moment she became very aware of the foul stench filling her nostrils. She winced at the odour and looked up towards the toaster which was streaming with black smog.

"Oh, for f…" She muttered as she moved from her chair and over to the toaster.

As she reached the burning toaster, the fire alarms began to scream raucously, pulsing in her brain. At that thought, she frantically grabbed the incinerated pieces and launched them into the sink before blowing lightly on her delicate scorching fingers. Her face quickly screwed up in to a fierce scowl before glaring down the hall towards the GR.

She immediately stormed down the hallway and repeatedly pounded her fist on the GR door; the fire alarm continually ringing in her ears.

She waited and tapped her foot impatiently before quickly smacking the flashing red 'evacuate' button on the side of the door. The GR transformed from a dim red glow to a bright white gleam and the door slid open, allowing Bulma to charge in towards the man in question. She made sure she stood a few metres away from him, noticing he had yet to turn around to face her.

"Vegeta!" she shouted, "You forgetting something?"

He slowly turned around and shook his head at the psychotic woman, pretending he couldn't hear a word she was saying.

Bulma fumed, between the fire alarm continuously pounding in her head and his obnoxious behaviour. He looked so collected, despite the alarm piercing his 'sensitive' ears. At this moment she failed to notice how tight his shorts were or how the beads of sweat clung on to his sturdy chest…_Oh, please._

Their faces were inches apart, hers glowing a furious red and his growing with a flagrant smirk. The fire alarm finally ceased its torturous screaming and Bulma took a step back in relief; letting herself cool down. She breathed slowly before glaring at the striking man in front of her.

_Right._

"You idiot." She spat. "You can't even keep on top of the simplest of tasks can you?" she rallied.

Vegeta smirked uncontrollably, knowing she was foolishly stepping in to his trap. Of course he did it purposely, forcing her to come in to contact with him. For all he knew, she had come looking for him, not the other way around. He scoffed before looking in to her curious eyes, noticing how hard she was trying not to look at his perfect physique.

"What are you blabbering on about?" he said as he turned away to dap his moist face with a towel.

Bulma watched carefully as he covered his face. At that moment she took a generous look at his rippling chest before blushing and reaffirming.

"The toast, Vegeta… I don't have to explain it. You know damn well what you've done…What are you getting out of this?" She spat in a reedy tone.

As Vegeta steadily removed the towel from his face and threw it over his shoulder with slick prowess, he released a sly chuckle.

"Woman, the kitchen is your domain. You should only anticipate the inevitable." He spoke with clear insolence.

Bulma balled her fists and glared at him. _Is he kidding?_ He hadn't spoken to her for weeks and now he was insulting her, just like that?

"What? The only inevitability I can concur is you being an arrogant ass hole!" She crossed her arms and displayed a great look of satisfaction from her comeback.

Vegeta stepped forward, feeling her body heat pulsing in the thick air between them.

"You're delusional" He said as he glowered down at her.

He couldn't deny how furious he felt. This was _his _game, yet she was beginning to take control, once again and he was becoming drawn to her once more. It was her skin, the faint scent of arousal in the air the way her cheeks glowed. It was clear that there was a visible sexual chemistry between the two but neither of them wanted to admit it, or act upon it for that matter.

What happened before Vegeta left wouldn't happen again, according to Bulma. It was glorious unpredictable passion.

Nothing more.

Bulma had been shut out by Vegeta so much that she had practically given up on that idea. But as much as she wanted to believe it, she couldn't deny the burning desire within.

She breathed a heavy sigh and dropped her gaze to the floor. There was no way she was getting herself in to such a mess again. Her brain was already scrambled with a delusional desire for Vegeta and she was, just about, beginning to overcome it; now he was just taking the piss. She took a steady step back and locked eyes with the Saiyan once more before speaking.

"I don't know what your problem is, bud. But I'm not going to stand for it." She said as she waved her hand dismissively.

Bulma was stunned to hear him push the conversation further and she watched him with curious eyes.

"Well?" he muttered with an exquisite smirk.

"Well…?" She replied as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Don't just stand there. Get out and make me some more toast." He spoke calmly.

Bulmas eyes widened in disbelief at his words and she simply stated.

"Make your own toast. You may have failed to notice, I have better things to do than attend to your every need…_your highness._" She spat.

Vegeta took the ammunition gladly and stepped closer to her radiating body.

"I have more important things to do than to stand here and listen to your trivial whining" He said in a haughty tone.

Bulma felt the fire burning in her throat, the words she wanted to scream, but couldn't. All she could do was clench her fists and stare at him, but she wasn't going down that easy.

"Well, you better get used to it mister!" she barked "This is my house and I can do as I please…You don't like it? Leave!"

Vegeta was taken aback by her sharp words. He knew she was just sparring with him but there was a twinge of sadness in her voice which was hard to ignore. Without any further thoughts, he took a large step back and turned away from the furious earth woman.

"Maybe I will" He said calmly but sternly.

Bulma sighed as she watched his back. "I honestly don't know why you returned at all." She watched him closely. She wanted to ask him where the hell he'd been but was it true that she really cared?

The fact was he had come back. That's when he spoke.

"We both know why" He said.

Bulma blinked and gulped a large lump in her throat. She waited for a good ten seconds before Vegeta turned round, a frown present on his God-like features.

"This is the only place on this pathetic, cretin infested rock, which seems to have substantial training facilities, to meet my needs." He breathed. "Even so, this machinery is proving to be incapable of withstanding my power." He said with a smirk.

Bulmas shoulders dropped and she relaxed. What was she expecting him to say? _Never mind,_ she thought carefully. The mood lightened slightly between the two. Bulma had calmed down and Vegeta presented his usual smirk, indicating that he assumed he had won their little conversation.

"You're lucky I let you stay here. Where else would you go? Nobody likes you." She spoke truthfully as she crossed her arms.

Vegeta scoffed and turned around to look at the blue haired beauty. "I don't want friendship from any of the lowlifes from this disgusting planet." Was she serious?

"Hmm." She said as she rolled her eyes.

"What are you rolling your eyes at, woman?" he barked.

"Oh nothing" She grinned and walked over to him, placing a gentle finger on her chin. "So, what happened between us before you left…What would you call that, hm?"

By now Vegeta was certain she was twisting things around, but he wouldn't succumb to her torturous display. He couldn't grasp the meaning of her question, what happened between them wasn't friendship, he was sure of that. It just happened. Besides, she came on to him, he simply reacted instinctively.

He growled as he watched her cunning eyes. "Hmph. You don't know what you're talking about woman. Now get out so I can resume my training." He felt a pang of defeat in his heart as the words escaped his mouth; knowing she'd see right through them.

"Oh I see. You're just shy, aren't you?" She placed a delicate hand on his forearm and caressed the skin with her thumb.

Vegeta could feel the instant sensation flying around his body, he had no idea his arm was quite so…erogenous. He snapped his arm away from her grip and growled, not knowing if it was a pleasure response or that of anger. The woman was clearly in heat and his body was certainly responding. He had her right where he wanted but there was something condescending about the way she spoke and there was the chance she would rebuff if _he_made any sudden moves. He closed his eyes momentarily and opened them to frown at her.

"Woman." He sighed, "You must be insane if you think I would want to participate in any such activity with you." He spat with a smirk.

Bulma blinked and grinned at him. He was becoming predictable; there was a pall of indecisiveness in his eyes. Everyone desired Bulma Briefs, Saiyan or not. She quickly realised how pathetically childish the whole scenario was becoming, so she decided to give the guy a break.

She took a step back from him, allowing him to breathe. His features loosened and he exhaled heavily at her retreat, but there were two tiny heated marks across each cheek.

Bulma chuckled before concluding. "Anyway. I'm going to work across town so you'll have to please yourself for now. That is what you want isn't it?" She said with a seductive wink as she strolled out the room, leaving the frozen Saiyan behind.

As the GR door slid shut and Bulma had disappeared, Vegeta performed a huge ki blast into the wall, which bounced right off and hit the control panel; scorching the buttons. His muscular arms pumped with rage at the turn of events. She had done it again; she had a power over him, some sort of trickery, which he couldn't control. Her delicate touch was nearly enough to send him flying over the edge.

He sighed as he watched the flames licking the control panel. He was back where he started, his training was being constantly disrupted and it was _all_her fault. He was a Saiyan warrior, not like that bumbling weakling she previously controlled! Before he thought any further, a huge growl gargled in his lower abdomen. He replied with a fierce growl and headed for the kitchen. He hoped he would have calmed down once he gorged himself, maybe not.

* * *

><p>As the day progressed in to the night, Vegeta had accomplished training fluently in 900G. He had been satisfied with his 10,000 sit ups and 5,000 one finger push ups, plus his vigorous battle simulation with the defence bots. It was fair to say he was less tense and his mind had settled, a little.<p>

He stepped out the steaming shower and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He rolled his shoulders; hearing the popping of his joints and feeling the muscles relax. Tiny beads of water rolled down his chest and some diverted into the defined creases between each muscle, while others ran right the way down to the v of his lower abdomen. His hair remained in its gravity defying state and the tiny scars on his face glistened with a silver glimmer as his face moistened.

The woman had been home for several hours, yet she hadn't peered through at him while he trained, nor did she attempt to disrupt him at all. She simply disappeared to her private quarters.

He mused at what she could possibly be doing. Then he suddenly scowled at the disgraceful image of her, naked, dripping wet and in a scorching shower. He grunted and pulled himself away from the mirror.

As he stepped in to his bedroom, he felt her ki approaching. At first he assumed she would simply walk by as she usually did, but this time she stopped outside the door and knocked gently.

He refrained from answering.

Bulma stood outside his bedroom, waiting for him to open the door, contemplating just barging in. She had driven herself mad while working in the lab. She hadn't gotten much progress and she had left hours before she ought to have done. The one question she promised herself she would ask Vegeta, yet she couldn't spit the words out. The first thing she did when she arrived home was go straight to her room and think. Think of what she would say to him. He had come back, yes.

But why?

Now that they were 'talking' again, she thought it was the opportune time to raise the question, yet she became so distracted and completely dismissed it. So she sat in her room, freshened up and now here she was, helplessly standing before his bedroom door. Waiting for him for him to…

"Hello?" She shouted viciously.

Vegeta winced at her high pitch squawk, and then sighed. "What?"

With that, Bulma swung the door open but casually strolled in; trying to keep a cool head. As she walked into the dim room she realised she was now face to face with a half-naked, dripping wet Vegeta. She gulped as her eyes fixated on his broad chest and shoulders, completely oblivious to his awareness.

_Vile creature__**,**_ he thought as he watched her, disgusted.

She quickly snapped out of it and smiled politely at the incredibly sexy Saiyan.

Vegeta shared a similar reaction as he recognised the womans attire. She had those blasted mini short things on and a tiny vest top which hugged her curves, emphasising her voluptuous figure. Although, Vegeta seemed capable of keeping his cool when it came to sexual thoughts, when it became physical, that's when the problems started. He watched her wide eyes, waiting.

_Pervert,_ she thought as she watched him look her up and down.

They both stood, gormless, drinking each other's image.

"Well…?" he said.

Bulma had partially forgotten what she came in for…_oh yeah._

"I just wanted to ask you something" She said shyly.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He didn't like questions, he didn't even like answers. And he certainly didn't want any questions from _her._ He sighed and Bulma took that as an 'ok'.

"You went away" She nodded at him, "But what I want to know is…Why'd you _really _come back here?" She prompted.

He didn't answer immediately but when he finally spoke, Bulma was hardly surprised with the answer he gave.

"I don't know" He said truthfully.

There was no more to be said between the two. Bulma knew she wasn't going to get the answer she wanted but it was worth a shot. No harm in trying is there? Even if it is for someone like Vegeta. She simply wanted the truth, and that's what he gave her.

With that she simply nodded and left the room, no more satisfied than before.

Vegeta stood perplexed by her calmness. He expected her to begin questioning about where he'd been and what he'd done, but she only wanted one answer. An answer he couldn't give. This agitated him, there was no answer. He had completely forgotten about his little plan for her and now she was playing the puppeteer, pulling his strings and controlling his every move. The thoughts of her reverberated in his mind and he was becoming borderline insane. He didn't even order her to leave or at least insult her. Who was she to just walk in to his quarters and ask such a pointless question?

Vegetas skin tingled, he couldn't place the feeling, but he wasn't happy with it. He sighed and rummaged through his dresser draws, searching for his training shorts. There would be no rest for him tonight.


	9. Bed Bound

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter Nine  
><span>Bed Bound<span>

* * *

><p>"WAAACHOOO"<p>

Bulma smeared the spray of mucus off of her notebook with the sleeve of her lab coat, and proceeded to rub her nose dry with the same sleeve. It was March and Bulma was struggling with her annual common cold, yet this time it was proving to be a real pain in the ass. She'd been dripping snot everywhere, with the failure of using a tissue, but she was determined to carry on working. Nothing would stop her, not even a stupid…

"Ah-Ah-Ah-chooo", she spluttered once more, with a droplet of mucus clinging on to the tip of her nose.

At that moment, the lab doors slid open and Dr Briefs casually strolled in with a vacant look on his face, which was until he caught site of his daughter.

"Bulma, I think it's about time you took a break", he said with concern, while moving towards her. "You do look dreadful." He looked at her brightly glowing nose and the puffiness under her eyes, while pulling an overly concerned frown.

She scowled up at her farther, noticing the look of worry on his usually calm features.

"No da-." She stopped to sniffle, as she could feel the mucus rolling down her nostrils, and another droplet dripped on to her notebook.

They both watched the wet mark on the page for a few seconds before Bulma sorrowfully continued.

"Urgh, maybe you're right." She muttered, although she could use a little relaxation time. Her throat had swelled up, making it increasingly painful for her to eat, her head felt like it was full of water, sloshing around her skull and she couldn't stop sneezing for the life of her.

She noticed how her father kept his distance from her and she wasn't entirely surprised, although she was a bit insulted, she wasn't _that _ill.

She glanced up at the lavender haired scientist and he seemed to be edging away slowly.

"I'll go and tell your mother and she can sort some medicine and make you comfortable. You need to relax and maybe try to get some sleep." He said sincerely before sauntering out the lab.

Bulma refrained from using her sleeve as a tissue and sniffed as hard as she could, feeling the mucus rumbling around her sinuses. _Just my luck! I'm finally on the brink of a new invention and BOOM. I get a stupid cold! Urgh!_

She slammed her note book shut and headed out of the room. A pal of dizziness washed over her and she stumbled in to a desk. _Right, definitely time for some rest!_

* * *

><p>After half an hour of being fussed over by Bunny, Bulma was now lying on the sofa in the sitting room, cocooned in five different blankets and bed sheets. In front of her was a tiny table, on it was, a box of tissues, a box of decongestion tablets, a glass of water and a pile of old gossip magazines. Bunny had already given her a couple of flu tablets, but didn't really specify what they were. Bulma was too dizzy to argue, so she swiped them off her mother and gulped them down without any water.<p>

Bulma looked up and stared at her mother.

"Now dear, you get plenty of sleep and try and drink as many fluids as you can." She spoke in an overly excited tone.

Having a sick daughter meant that Bunny could play as her nurse, and she loved fussing over Bulma, no matter how old she was. Her gleaming face was enough evidence to show Bulma how much she was enjoying looking after her. Also, judging by the mountain of sheets she was buried in, it was clear that Bunny was acting too over protective. Bulma wasn't a child, heck she was probably a lot older than her mother, mentally that is. But she would always be Bunny's child and Bulma respected her claustrophobic method of concern.

After Bunny strolled out the room, it wasn't long before Bulma drifted off to sleep and what felt like five minutes, she awoke; feeling just as groggy as before.

The room was silent, only the sound of the pendulum swinging back and forth on the old grandfather clock was heard. Bulma sighed, and closed her eyes once more, before hearing the sound of a page being turned.

She picked her head up and peered over the lumps of duvet to see her mother sitting on the chair beside her, reading what looked like a cooking magazine.

"Oh, you're awake!" she beamed.

Bulma groaned and looked over at the clock once more, 4:30pm. She'd been asleep for four hours? _Urgh, _she thought as she returned her droopy eyes to Bunny.

"What shall I make for dinner tonight?" she said while flicking through a few pages of the magazine.

"I don't think I'll be able to eat anything." Bulma stated.

Bunny frowned for a moment before resuming her usual cheerful face. "Oh no, you must dear, you need the energy!"

Then Bunny looked rather bashfully and a glow of crimson appeared on each cheek. She glanced at the pages of the magazine, then back up at Bulma, raising a finger to her chin.

"Speaking of energy…" she mused while peeking over at Bulma.

Bulma was used to her mother's crazy, irrational behaviour, but she was a bit concerned at this moment.

"Hm?" was all she could manage to utter.

Bunny blushed once more and closed the magazine, before lightly placing it on the coffee table.

"You and Vegeta." She stated gleefully and sat eagerly, waiting for Bulma to respond.

Bulma was slightly impressed that her mother had held on to the information for so long, nevertheless, she was bound to bring it up sooner or later.

"Awh, mom…" she replied indignantly.

Bunny smiled, "Well, how're you two?" she questioned while clasping her hands tightly.

"There is no 'me and Vegeta'. It's not like that." She stated truthfully.

Bulma had almost forgotten about the whole thing and didn't particularly want it to be brought up in conversation, but seeing as her mother was the only one who knew, she thought it best to get it out of her system. She knew the whole situation would confuse her mother; frankly it confused Bulma a lot more. The only thing she could do was pretend it didn't happen at all.

"Oh…Hmm…But…" Bunny stumbled across her words, trying to muster up a positive response. Bulma saw the struggle in her mother's eyes, so she decided to clear the water for her.

"Yeah, I know." She sighed "It was a mistake, didn't mean anything."

Bunny frowned a little, and then smiled, showing her teeth. "Oh, I completely understand dear. Those _muscles!_" She exclaimed and stood up.

"Hmm, yeah…" was all Bulma could say.

"Anyway! I'll get you some tomato soup and some lovely crunchy bread!" With those words Bunny flew out the room, leaving Bulma thinking about the one situation she swore to never think of again.

She lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, listening to Bunny rummaging through the cupboards and foraging through the fridge. Before too long, Bulma felt her eyelids failing and she again, drifted off.

* * *

><p>"Wow, John. Look at the size of this!"<p>

Bulmas eyes snapped open and she rolled over. The T.V was on, showing some sort of fishing programme. She poked her head over the quilts and saw her father sitting on the chair beside her. Again, she glanced at the clock.

_8:00pm?_

She watched her father's face and noticed how excited he was, the crow's feet by his eyes creased up with sheer joy as he watched the man on the screen trying to maintain a grip on a huge cat fish.

"You should start fishing again, dad", a groggy voice said from beyond the mountain of duvet covers.

Dr Briefs head snapped over in shock, as he could see his daughters glistening eyes, peering over at him.

"Yes. I'm thinking about, maybe a few hours each week." He said happily.

"Maybe I'd start going with you." She said with a tiny smile and a look of sincerity in her eyes.

Dr Briefs was shocked by his daughters proposition, _she really must be ill._

"Really?" He said, intrigued.

"Yeah, seriously. It seems relaxing."

Dr Briefs chuckled and gazed back over at the screen.

"Oh, far from it, Bulma."

Bulma became a little agitated. She'd seen her dad fish plenty of times and it looked simple.

"Hm?" she coughed "You sit there… and wait for a bite."

He looked back over at her. "Yes, but the anticipation for that bite is vital. You're on the edge the entire time."

"Ha, I doubt it." She snapped, "I've seen you fall asleep a couple times." She sniffled.

A blush appeared on Dr Briefs cheeks and he looked away from his daughter. "I'm a busy man. I'm entitled to a rest now and then." He said bashfully.

Bulma chuckled, "Contradicting yourself now", followed by a heavy chesty cough.

Dr Briefs quickly threw a concerned look at his daughter. "My Bulma. You do sound awful. Have you had any flu medicine?" He said as he lowered the volume on the T.V.

"Yeah, mom gave me some before. It's made me really drowsy." She said with a yawn.

"Yes, they tend to have that effect." He said rather sarcastically, "You'll need as much rest as you can get!"

Bulma nodded and watched her father return his gaze to the screen. He didn't show as much concern as Bunny, he'd always seen Bulma fight through whatever challenges came her way, so he knew she would be fine, eventually. He just threw the regular information at her, knowing Bunny would have molly coddled her already.

Bulma rolled over, the contents in her head slowly followed after her. She closed her eyes and listened to the fishermen shouting and exclaiming about their huge catches, yet the sound was comforting and it helped sway Bulma in to another slumber.

* * *

><p>Bulma emerged back into consciousness by the sound of grunting and screeching. The room was now dark, apart from the flashing images on the T.V screen. She wearily looked at the clock and could barely make out what time it was; she caught a glimpse.<p>

1:00am. _Oh dear…_

She put a shaky palm to her burning forehead and shuffled her body slightly, causing the duvet to slump off the sofa. She was immediately shocked to see Vegeta, casually sitting in the same chair her father had been sitting in previously. Unusually, he was wearing black sweat pants and a black tank top. He sat slumped in the chair, watching the screen intently.

Bulma slowly retrieved the duvet covers and peeped over them, to get a thorough look at him, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

She relaxed back in to the sofa and turned her gaze to the T.V. A documentary about Neanderthals and Homosapiens was on, showing them engaging in battle.

_How fitting._

She felt quite uncomfortable, knowing he was a few feet away from her. Why he was there was something else completely. But she guessed it probably had something to do with the GR she promised to fix.

Vegeta immediately sensed her consciousness and he continued to glare at the creatures fighting on the T.V screen. He only arrived because he'd over worked the GR and needed her to fix it, but he noticed she was in a deep slumber and he found himself staying; longer than he intended. The sight of her sleeping was quite peaceful and he felt relaxed in her company, he hadn't intended on being there when she awoke, so he felt quite uneasy himself. Besides, he found the documentary to be rather entertaining, watching the ancestors of this weakling race.

Without looking, he stated, "You're ill."

Bulmas heart stopped for a second, as the words reverberated in her mind.

_He's actually trying to start a conversation with me?_

She grabbed a hand full of duvet and pushed it down to notice Vegetas eyes, still fixated on the screen.

"Seems that way." She said softly.

He watched her from his peripheral view, noticing her stare.

"Hmph."

"What?" She questioned, with clear annoyance in her voice.

"The GR needs fixing" He said sternly, trying to avoid eye contact with her.

"Well, it'll have to wait 'till tomorrow, I'm in no fit state." She said simply, while glaring at a very uninterested Saiyan.

A few seconds later, silence began to fill the room, increasing the tension. Bulma felt slightly better and was in the mood for talking, it wasn't every day Vegeta came and sat down next to her, so she took the opportunity gladly. Why else was he still here?

She looked at the screen, then back at Vegeta.

"This interesting?" She said promptly.

He shot a frown at her, without moving the rest of his body. "Hm. Barely. These weaklings are useless in combat."

Bulma was almost stunned. He managed to form a reply without it being harsh or insulting on her behalf, yeah he still managed to mock the human race, but that was beside the point.

"Y'know, those Neanderthals kinda look like you." She said teasingly.

He glared at her, bemused, but couldn't deny the likeness and similarities the brutes on the screen shared with the ancestors of his race. "Tch. Maybe my ancestors…"

Bulma mused at the similarities between the two races; they were almost uncanny, apart from the bulging muscles and crazy hair. "Hmm…Funny, our race is quite similar to yours; minus the outstanding strength."

He immediately scoffed, "Your race is far inferior", he pointed at the screen, informatively, "These 'homosapiens' are separated because they are 'supposedly' more intellectual…Yet they wiped out the strongest of your kind…idiots." With that he leaned back and folded his arms, proud of his remark.

Bulma sat up a bit, impressed with Vegeta. He was seriously conversing with her, maybe because she's sick and isn't in the right frame of mind to argue or shout at him. She decided to remain silent and watch the programme, enjoying Vegetas company.

One of the Neanderthals ran over to a group of Homosapiens and jumped on one of the weaker looking members, then proceeded to hammer him with a club. The others frantically grabbed their spears and got a good distance from the fight.

Vegeta leaned forward attentively, his eyes widening at the action.

One of the Homosapiens threw a spear, which struck the Neanderthal straight in the heart. He attempted to pull it out before dropping to his inevitable death.

Vegeta leaned back into the chair and sighed.

"That was impressive." Bulma stated.

He looked over to notice her sitting up attentively and smiling at him.

She continued, "That was a lot of mental strength, something which I have inherited", she said haughtily.

Vegeta laughed at the proud woman, "Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't throw a fit, let alone a weapon!" He smirked.

"Want to bet?" she retorted and swivelled her body, facing Vegeta. At that moment she sneezed, failing to cover her mouth and spitting in his direction.

He grimaced and flinched away from her. "Urgh. Vile!" he shouted while checking his clothes for any stray fragments of snot.

Realisation began to slowly creep up on the pair, more so for Vegeta. He was still sitting there, talking to her, quite comfortably. Ever since she came in to his room, asked the question to which he could not answer, then simply left, he realised she wasn't as bad as he thought she was. She was far from tolerable, but there was something about her now. Now that she was ill, she was less volatile and annoying, it was different.

"What's made you so chatty?" Bulma questioned. Knowing they were both thinking along the same line.

He frowned at her, noticing how calm she looked. "This isn't chatter. I was more satisfied when you were sleeping, this is just nuisance." He grinned after seeing the disheartenment on her face.

"Well, whatever you call it. It's appreciated." She smiled.

If anyone was going to admit it, it had to be her. It was the truth, she felt relaxed now and chirpy. They were talking about things other than the GR or training, it was almost as if they had found a common interest; almost.

Vegeta snarled and looked away again. _Why would she say such a preposterous thing?_

He didn't want to dwell on the subject for long. His main purpose for being there was for the GR.

"You will be well tomorrow?" He spoke, without looking at her.

"Hm, I dunno. It's doubtful, probably a few days."

He shot her a scowl, before stating, "You look well to me."

She grinned, "That's because I'm super strong and a master illusionist"

Immediately after speaking those words, a bubble of snot formed from her left nostril as she exhaled. She quickly inhaled, forcing it back up, hoping he hadn't seen anything.

"I actually feel like shit." She sighed.

Vegeta smirked, "Weakling."

He was partially surprised, despite her apparent illness, her face continued to glow and she remained very physically attractive.

"Sh." She retorted to his subtle comment.

"What?" he snapped back.

"You heard." She rallied, while refocusing her attention to the T.V screen ahead.

Vegeta grunted and followed her actions.

Now there was a group of Homosapiens, gathered around a dead member of the group, mourning his death.

Vegeta chuckled to himself as he slouched back in to the chair.

"What are you laughing at?" she questioned indignantly.

He glanced over at her, amused by the sadness in her eyes. "It's amusing, obviously."

"Mm, no. No it isn't." she retorted, "So you laugh when one of your family members dies?"

She immediately regretted her choice of words. Family was a touchy subject for Vegeta. Frieza had killed them all. Bulma sighed and nervously looked back at the screen.

"Sorry, nevermind." She said, almost a whisper. She was startled when Vegeta proceeded to answer her foolish question.

"No." he sighed and then smirked, "But I do NOT dwell upon them like these pathetic creatures." He remarked.

Bulma took note of the instant subject change from Vegeta. "It's called emotions – something you seem to lack."

At that moment he turned to stare at the blue haired woman, "Emotions merely get in the way." He stated, still staring in to her concerned eyes.

She focused on his stare, trying to avoid forcing out another snot bubble.

"In the way of what?" she added.

He sat back and turned away from her, "Stupid question."

She crossed her arms, still gazing at Vegeta. "Hm. Whatever. I know you'll soon show some form of 'feelings'." _He's already shown lust,_she thought.

He didn't want to show any concern for the subject, so he remained facing away from her.

"I wouldn't wait around for THAT day." He scoffed.

"Don't worry, neither will I." she retorted, although she probably would wait for a little while.

Silence emerged again and Bulma struggled to keep the conversation flowing. She was still shocked he was still hanging around, but he was still the same old stubborn Vegeta. So she decided to force the conversation further.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Yes." He stated.

He glanced over at her. _Why does care whether or not I have eaten? _

"Good." She replied. "My mom said she was making me some soup. I guess I fell asleep." She smiled nervously, knowing how artificial the conversation sounded.

Vegeta smirked and looked over at Bulma, a gleam in his eyes. "I have eaten that too, much to my disliking." He said proudly.

_He ate my soup?_ Bulma thought, a slight pang of sorrow in her heart. She probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway, but it was still hers. "Is there any left?" she asked politely.

"No."

"Couldn't have been that bad then." She said with palpable glee.

"Hmph. I needed to be fed." He stated sternly.

"Yeah, so do other people in this house. You don't have to go round scarfing everything you're chubby Saiyan fingers stumble across." She said with a chuckle.

Vegeta immediately glared at her, throwing mental daggers. "Chubby?" He questioned, with an arched eyebrow.

Bulma laughed heavily, "Yes. Lard arse." She said, trying to imitate his English sounding accent, "Just think, all those calories and no GR to burn it all off. You're sure to pile on the pounds." She stated, followed by a chesty cough.

Vegeta scoffed and looked at Bulma, struggling to breath. "I'm not reliant on your technology for my training." He said while focusing on her struggle.

She gasped and breathed heavily, while trying to regain her composure, "Seems that way to me, otherwise you wouldn't have asked me to fix it. Or is it that you just like spending time with me?" She said with a sinister grin.

"Not a chance!" He exclaimed proudly.

"Then why are you still here?"

"I live here. I can go where I please, without your futile objections." He said, while frowning at the sick woman.

Bulma had gone past surprise now. He was still sitting beside her and was acting pretty stubborn, despite the fact she could possibly sneeze all over him.

"Oh, I'm not objecting. I'm glad for the company. It's just a bit unexpected."

Vegeta looked away at this moment. Partly because what she had said was true, it was unexpected, for him too. Usually he would have stormed out after hearing such obscenities, yet he was still there.

"Good. You should be honoured." He spoke without looking at her.

"I am." She retorted.

"Good." He rallied.

"Yeah."

He grunted at her childish behaviour, causing Bulma to chuckle in return.

They both sat silent for a while, and the programme finished, showing the credits rolling up the screen. Vegeta glared at the screen and contemplated leaving. Maybe he had in fact stayed too long, and she would become comfortable around him. Sure, he was beginning to warm to her company but he didn't need it and it would only serve to get in the way of his training.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of her voice.

"Look how late …early it is" she said, while looking at the clock, 2:00am. "You'll be preparing to train again, right?" She was almost becoming desperate for conversation.

He looked over, "In a few hours, yes." He stated.

_Why is she interested?_ He had been there almost a year and she asks him _now?_

"Jeez…" she sniffled, "I must admit, it's pretty impressive." She said truthfully.

Vegeta merely smirked, "Don't tell me what I already know." He said, clearly accepting the compliment.

Bulma glanced over at Vegeta, noticing his palpable confusion. "Don't you wish to do other things with your life?" she asked.

All Vegeta seemed to do was train, it was only normal to ask if he had any other interests, right?

He looked at her, showing interest in her question. "Like what exactly?"

Bulma mused over the question, not expecting him to answer at all.

"I dunno…Normal things." She immediately regretted her choice of words.

"_Human_things?" He spat, followed with a chesty laugh.

Bulma pouted, expecting the smart remark. She wasn't going to let him win that easy.

"Well, what did you do on your own planet, as a past time?"

The air between them thickened as Vegeta thought about an appropriate answer.

"Nothing. Except train and fight. There was no time for useless 'past times' or 'hobbies'." He said slightly insulted by her insolence.

"What a boring life." She sighed.

Vegeta was taken aback by her immediate conclusion and his eyes widened.

"Far from it!" he spat, "Fighting is in my blood, it's what I enjoy."

_So much for a common interest_. Bulma pondered some more as she looked in to the Saiyans eyes, seeing how serious he was.

"But it's all you've ever known. You never know, you might enjoy other things." She said optimistically.

Vegeta knew a certain activity he _would_ enjoy, but it still wouldn't match up to the thrill of the fight. He blushed at the dirty thought and looked away from her.

"No." He stated

"Jeez. Fine. Don't come crying to me over the next few days when you can't find anything to occupy your time." She said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He glared back over at her, "I won't. Because you're fixing the GR tomorrow." He smirked.

"Yeah, I've changed my mind." She said while grinning severely.

"Woman!"

"No, it's Bulma." She corrected.

"Whatever." He said with a huff.

She looked over at his stubborn stature, not denying the joy she was feeling.

"I'm pretty ill, if you haven't noticed."

He remained looking at the wall, "Not sick enough to cease that blabbering mouth of yours." He spat and Bulma could feel the smirk on his face.

She felt agitated at his stubbornness and she concluded. "You must be sick."

Vegeta swivelled around to look at her. "Hn?"

"You haven't stopped talking to me for, hm…A good twenty minutes now – again – impressive", she sniffled a lump of mucus, "Either that or you're bored." She grinned.

Vegeta clenched his teeth, as he couldn't agree more with her inquisitions. "Call it what you want, woman. I'm merely trying to watch those ridiculous ancestors of yours."

Bulma glanced at the screen, then back at Vegeta. "But that programme finished five minutes ago…" she mused.

Vegetas eyes widened in humiliation, he composed himself and rolled his shoulders.

"You earthlings cease to amuse me. It won't be long before another one of those stupid programmes comes on."

After the words rolled out of Vegetas smug mouth, a T.V announcement sounded, 'Next up on docu-zone, pony sanctuary'.

Vegeta frowned in disgust.

"So, you're going to watch that, then?" Bulma said, trying not to burst into a fit of laughter.

He immediately snatched the remote and slammed his finger on one of the buttons. The channel flicked to the next one up and a huge shark appeared on the screen, lunging out of the ocean, opening its mammoth jaw and baring its razor sharp teeth.

Bulma squealed and pulled the duvet covers to her face; trying to hide from the image on the screen.

Vegeta immediately felt her fear shoot through her body and he grinned at the look of horror on her face.

"Change over!" she exclaimed, "I hate sharks!"

Vegeta couldn't help but release a small chuckle. "Be quiet and go back to sleep." He demanded.

"Uh. No. Change the channel, now!" she said in a whimper.

"Why?" he retorted, amused.

She looked over at him, bemused by the joy he was gaining from her fear. "Because sharks are horrible creatures." She stated.

Vegeta scoffed, "Psh. Hardley" he grinned, "I could blast that thing within a second." He said with a pal of smugness in his voice.

Bulma blinked a few times, "Good for you, I can't."

"I know." He said in a cocky tone.

"So change over", she said nonchalantly.

"No."

She stared at Vegeta, seeing the genuine happiness on his face. It was unusual. "There must be something more interesting on." She pleaded.

"Quiet." He spat, while shooting her a devilish grin.

"Don't tell me to be quiet" she retorted viciously.

Vegeta refrained from looking at Bulma, but could sense her clear annoyance.

"Seems I already have."

Bulma was overwhelmed with his determination. The pair had been bickering for almost half an hour, both very aware of how unnatural they were behaving. Bulma was perplexed with the knowledge from their previous encounters.

Why has he suddenly changed? _Has he had some kind of epiphany or something? _

"Don't make me come over there and sneeze on you", she threatened, knowing full well he wouldn't encourage her.

He glanced at her, "I'd like to see you try, woman!" he scoffed loudly.

They both stared at each other, while Bulma contemplated her actions. She never backed down from a challenge and wasn't going to make any exceptions for him.

She slowly stood up, taking a blanket with her and she shuffled her way over to Vegeta, who sat patiently waiting for her first move. He wasn't expecting her to stick to her word, she was supposedly ill, yet she was making her way over to him; fire in her eyes.

Once she was standing directly in front of him, she placed her hands on her hips and leaned in towards him.

"Change over…Now" she spoke softly, her breath floating around his face.

Vegeta shuddered from the close proximity, but kept his focus on the matter at hand.

"No. You seem perfectly capable of fixing the GR. Now get to it!" he demanded, locking eyes with her.

Bulma leaned back and laughed loudly. "Ha. You're delusional. Have you seen how swollen my tonsils are?" She leaned in again, and opened her mouth wide, "Ahhh".

Vegeta grimaced and almost keeled over in the chair. "Urgh. Get away you vile woman!" He said while scrambling side to side, avoiding any contact with her.

Bulma smiled, "Change over."

"Maybe if you go away." He said, with palpable discomfort.

"Change over", she said as she leaned in closer.

"Get out of my face, wench!" Vegeta exclaimed, while trying to overcome her potent aroma.

Bulma was fascinated by his discomfort. She felt a little dishearten by the fact that he didn't want her anywhere near him, but that was because she was ill, right? Otherwise he'd be more than happy to have her jump all over him.

She leaned in even closer, noticing the bead of sweat on his forehead. "Change over…Now."

Vegeta became overwhelmed with his instinctive desire to ravage her, right there. There was no point in trying to escape it, even when she was ill, she had control over him.

_Damn woman! _

Her seduction was pushing Vegetas calmness too far and he immediately stood up, causing Bulma to jump backwards.

He stepped to the side and sighed. "I'm done with your childish behaviour, amuse yourself." He said as he threw the remote on the pile of quilts.

Bulma stared at him, perplexed. Although, she did predict their friendliness wouldn't last too long. "What…I…Hm." She shrugged and sat back down, _guess I win this time_.

Vegeta was about to walk away, but he stopped and glanced over at Bulma, who was now burying herself in quilts once again.

"I want the GR fixed by tomorrow, no later" He said before sauntering out the room.

_Hm? Was that some sort of compromise, in exchange for the remote?_

Bulma quickly dismissed the thought and begun to ponder about Vegetas previous behaviour. Usually it would have taken him five seconds to storm out on her and now it had been…She looked over at the clock, 2:00am.

_An entire hour._

As she snuggled back in to the quilts, she couldn't ignore the bubbling feeling in her stomach, but it wasn't hunger, no. She couldn't place what it was, it was almost a nervousness or apprehension, was she actually falling for Vegeta?

No, surely not?

* * *

><p>For a second, during their little conversation, she could imagine herself arguing with him in twenty years' time. The thought frightened her a bit. She knew she cared about him, but she only assumed that that was merely concern. Bulma sniffled and immersed herself deeper in to the mountain of quilts.<p>

Admittedly, she felt a hell of a lot better. Maybe she just felt uplifted by the turn of events, but she it felt like they had started all over again. When she first met Vegeta, she was terrified of him, and in no way attracted to him. But as the time progressed and he arrived at Capsule Corp, she became fond of him, and teased him, saying he stunk. From that initial comment, it was clear that Vegeta wouldn't go out of his way to hurt Bulma, so she inevitably became comfortable with him. After their little get together, Bulma assumed it would only progress further, despite Vegetas disagreeable personality. Yet, he left, came back, ignored her and has now, after a month, decided to speak to her again.

Bulma was glad he decided to speak to her, there was a clear connection between the two and she seemed to be the only one who he had spoken to for over half an hour. That made her feel special, but she was uncertain of how he would behave tomorrow. Maybe he'd tell her she was imagining things with the sickness. Or maybe he'd talk to her some more. He wasn't completely different, there was still a reluctance and anxiousness about him, but he was more willing than usual.

She grinned as she recollected his face, when she showed him her tonsils. Admittedly, she acted a bit childish in front of him, she was happy and comfortable.

She rolled over, closed her eyes and thought softly to herself, _only if…_


	10. A Simple Misunderstanding

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 10  
><span>A Simple Misunderstanding<span>

* * *

><p>"Uh, wha…" Bulma uttered as she sat up on her elbows in bed. She blindly frisked the bed side cabinet to check the time, flapping her hand around frantically in the pitch darkness; in search of anything.<p>

_Gotcha._

Her hand landed on the alarm clock and she pulled it towards her face, squinting at the tiny glowing numerals. 6:00AM.

_What the…_

She had been abruptly awoken from her beauty sleep by the sound of her father shouting obscenities, which for Dr Briefs, was _extremely _unusual. Bulma rolled out of bed and thudded to the floor, smacking her back in the process.

_Ah! Mother fucker…_

She finally got to her feet and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, before grabbing her dressing gown and heading downstairs.

Dr Briefs was kitted out in green combat pants, a mouldy green t-shirt and a grey loose fitting waist coat. Bulmas eyes widened at the sight before realising the occasion, therefore found it borderline acceptable for him to wear such hideous clothing.

She took a casual step forward, noticing her father's awareness of her presence. He blushed, looked away and continued to rummage through the kitchen drawers.

"Ah, Bulma…" he said with his back to her.

Bulma chuckled slightly, but soon felt uneasy, _what's he doing? _She quickly shrugged it off before leaning casually against the kitchen work top.

"Don't worry, dad. I wasn't serious when I said I wanted to go fishing with you." She chuckled, "You don't have to go creeping around at all hours of the morning."

He spun around, with his hands behind his back. Bulma raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a concerned look.

"Yes. Right." He uttered, "Well, I'm going to be gone a good few hours." He nodded politely, "Look after yourself…" He then grabbed a large ruck sack and proceeded out the front door.

Bulma scrutinized her father, sensing something dodgy was going on.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but, ok." She said, followed by a long sigh of disapproval mixed with, _now what the hell am I going to do so early in the morning!_

It had been a couple of days since Bulma had fallen ill, but she was back to her healthy and outstanding self again. To her complete surprise, she was bored, again. A thought soon popped in to her complicated brain and she decided to go along with it. It was time she got fit. She wasn't out of shape, not at all. Everyone else seemed to be training day in and day out, why couldn't she give it a go? Maybe then she'd be able to put up her own fight against the androids! She glanced over at the clock once more.

7:00AM…

_Maybe a few more hours of beauty sleep are in order, first._

* * *

><p>Bulmas eyes snapped open, something felt, oh so very wrong. She turned over on to her stomach and reached out for the alarm clock, 12:30PM?<p>

_Gah!_

She shot out of bed, threw on some black leggings and a vest top and headed down stairs. On the way down she noticed the absence of the GR drone, but she wasn't too concerned about Vegeta at this present moment. As she clambered to the bottom of the stairs, she paused as she felt an eruption in her stomach. She lightly rubbed her lower abdomen and sighed, while glancing longingly into the kitchen.

_Jog?_

_Food?_

_Jog?_

_It isn't advisory to go out jogging on an empty stomach!_

She shrugged and decided to give the jogging a miss, for now. At least she _looked_ like she'd been doing some exercise, besides; the clothing hugged her figure and enhanced her curves.

She strolled over to the fridge and once finding it was empty, she came to the conclusion that her mother hadn't been shopping. She slammed the door shut and looked around the kitchen, feeling the absence of souls.

"MOMM?" She hollered from her standing.

The silence became louder and Bulma began to feel a pang of sadness in her heart. She was alone, no father, mother and not even Vegeta… _Where is that ape? _She wondered for a second, before grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl and digging her teeth straight in to it.

_Nice of Mom to tell me she was going out! _She scoffed and a spray of chewed apple covered the kitchen work surface.

The kitchen breathed loneliness as Bulma sat down at the breakfast bar. As she finished the entire apple, even the core, she decided to give one of her mother's Yoga dvds a whirl. She presumed it was easy enough, seeing as her mother can clearly handle it and Bulma was a flexible woman, still in her prime. There was nothing she couldn't handle.

She sauntered in to the sitting room and fondled her way through the dvd cabinet, until a particular one caught her eye. She grabbed the box and flipped it over to read the back, 'Keep fit and flexible with Emi Bouquet'.

_No fucking way!_

Bulma flipped the box over to glare at the front cover. To her utter horror, Yamchas current beau was sitting in a very compromising position with a patronising smile on her little face.

_Yamcha didn't mention anything like this?_

Bulma laughed loudly before confidently sticking the DVD into the player and waiting for the younger woman's face to appear on screen.

After an hour or so of intense Yoga with Emi, Bulma decided to overlook the whole, 'that's my ex-boyfriends girlfriend telling me to bend my leg over my head'. She currently had hold of her right ankle and she was touching the floor with her spare hand. She was pretty damn impressed with herself at this moment.

There was a loud knock at the door and Bulma wobbled off balance and face planted the floor. She quickly regained her feet and ran to the door. To her even greater horror, Yamcha was standing idly, looking at her with wide eyes. She took a step back and eyed the man before welcoming him.

"Yamcha?" she shook her head, "Yamcha!"

_Yayyy…._

"Hey B" He said with great excitement in his eyes.

"Hey…I wasn't really expecting visitors." She uttered as she realised she probably stunk, from the lack of shower and increase of physical activity. Although Yamcha didn't seem to mind as he gracefully let himself in anyway.

They both made their way into the kitchen, before Yamcha spun around to face Bulma.

"So, what have you been up to?" He said as he slowly glanced up and down the length of her body.

She immediately picked up on his pervy behaviour and wasn't very impressed; although, she was more anxious for his reason being there more than anything.  
><em><br>_"Umm…Y'know, the usual. Working, looking after Vegeta…" She said with a casual wave of the hand.

Yamcha tensed up. He knew Vegeta wasn't around, that's why he chose his visiting time carefully. He couldn't feel Vegetas ki at all, which he only assumed meant that he wasn't within throwing distance. "He's not a baby, Bulma." He said with a mouth full of spite. He didn't like to think she'd been following him around and wiping his arse for him.

Bulma completely ignored his interjection and changed the subject.

"How're you anyway?" She said cautiously, before heading to the kettle and flicking the switch.

Yamcha froze for a moment and looked down at the floor. He was ready to tell Bulma the reason he came, or was he? He didn't really know, but he had to do it regardless. He needed her to know.

"I'm ok. Me and Emi broke up." He said blatantly, noticing Bulma flinch at the spoken words.

She didn't know how to react. Other than the facts that his now ex-girlfriend was still bending and flexing on the T.V in the sitting room. Bulma could only feel slightly angry, but she did a great job of covering it. She swivelled around and pulled her most impressive look of sincerity to date.

"Oh…Uh…I'm sorry." She said softly, before turning round to face the boiling kettle again.

_Great! Now I have to try and worm my way out of yet another 'Yamcha' situation!_

She closed her eyes as the silence crept up on her. As she did so, a waft of BO filled her nostrils, causing her to grimace.

_Oh Kami. Is that me?_

She stealthily edged her head towards her arm pit and took a small whiff, before snapping back and concluding, with flared nostrils and strained breath. _Yep. Definitely me!_

She spun back around and casually placed her elbows on the work surface behind her, revealing huge sweat patches under each arm. With a big faux grin plastered across her face, she looked at Yamcha, noticing the complete perplexed look on his.

"…You mind if I just get a quick wash and change?" she said awkwardly as she edged towards the hall way.

Yamcha arched an eyebrow at the strange, yet completely adorable woman, before nodding.

"Uh…Yeah."

"Great." She beamed. "There are plenty of films for you to watch in the sitting room. Help yourself…" She trailed off as she launched herself towards the stairs. But before she could land a single foot on the bottom stair, she froze.

_Shit! The dvd!_

She frantically threw herself into the lounge, only to find Yamcha staring at the brunette woman on the screen, expressionless. He soon blushed and looked over at Bulma.

"I'm not even going to ask." He stated before switching the dvd off and strolling over to the cabinet, in search of something more entertaining.

Bulma hovered in the doorway, feeling a very strange sensation tickling her skin. Was it guilt?

"It was the only one I could find." She lied.

Yamcha kept his back to Bulma as he scanned the choice of films. "Yeah, don't worry about it." He said honestly.

He really wasn't bothered about Emi. They broke up for the simple fact that she wasn't Bulma. They had a good run, he got a few satisfactory moments out of her, but he always wanted what he once had. He only respected his and Bulmas relationship once he wasn't with her and he kicked himself for not realising how much he needed her. Not just because she was the best sex he'd ever had, but because he needed her warmth and her fire. Emi just didn't cut it.

Bulma frowned at her guest, knowing he couldn't see her. She wasn't happy at all. There was no reason for him to be here. Who was she kidding; she knew damn well why he was here! She just didn't have the heart to tell him to leave.

_Only if Vegeta were here. He'd soon scare him off! _

She snapped out of her day dream and headed upstairs for the shower; also to conjure up a plan to get rid of Yamcha in a nice, 'I don't want you here, but let's be friends' way. She was becoming tired of Yamcha. Yeah, she wanted to be friends with him, but he was making it borderline impossible. They split up months ago and she was happily getting on with her life, just his appearance was making her miserable. It reminded her of the latter part of their relationship and how completely miserable she had been. No way did she want to head down that road again and she was willing to be cruel and heartless to him, if it resulted in him leaving her alone.

* * *

><p>Bulma wrapped herself in a new body length towel and squeezed the water out of her long hair. She opened the door and froze stiff when she saw Yamcha sitting on her bed, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes.<p>

Bulma loosened her shoulders and exhaled deeply, while contemplating her course of action. Yamcha stood up and held out his hands, as if expecting her to jump in to his arms.

"B…" he whispered as he moved closer to her.

Fury was all Bulma could register at this moment and she swiftly put her hand up to halt any further advances from Yamcha.

"No, Yamcha." She said sternly, while looking past him.

The more she looked at him, the more rage she felt.

_Who does he think I am? Who does he think 'he' is, creeping 'round and stalking his way in to such a beautiful girl's room… while she's in the shower?_

"We made a mistake." He continued as he pushed her hand out the way and stood directly in front of her; his breath tickling her burning face.

She sighed and looked up at her ex, "No, we've been through this."

At that moment he placed a delicate hand on Bulmas moist shoulder and caressed it gently. The only thing Bulma wanted now was for Vegeta to show up. She hated herself for acknowledging her own feelings for him and now she felt as if she needed him. Heck, she wasn't scared of Yamcha, but she couldn't be bothered with him, he was irritating, like a wasp at a picnic.

She shuddered under his touch, as the memories came flooding back through her conscious. All the times he would stroke and caress her skin when they had sex. There was nothing passionate, every time they did it, it was as if it was Yamchas first time and he hadn't a clue what to do. Frustration was not the right word.

Bulma looked up and noticed Yamchas face moving closer to hers. She quickly placed her palm into his face and slowly pushed his head back, leaving him bemused.

She dropped her arm to her side, "I want you to leave now, Yamcha." She spoke bluntly, "you know where the door is."

With that, she turned around and headed back in to the en-suite; slamming the door behind her. She only hoped he would be gone when she returned.

_Another eventful afternoon…_

Bulma was sitting on the floor of her en-suite, mindlessly picking bits of fluff of the damp towel which was loosely hanging from her body. She stared blankly at the floor, undecided about what her next move would be. She didn't want to get up, there didn't seem to be anything to get up for, so she'd been sitting on the floor for just over half an hour.

_What is wrong with some guys?_

It wasn't as if she was leading him on. Why would he assume she wanted anything from him other than friendship? Even after telling him countless times otherwise. She lifted her head up and stared at the bare wall. Any tears she had shed were purely due to stress, she wasn't upset, just irritated. Her mind was clouded enough as it was, Yamcha just had to come along and top it off! The complication Bulma had was she wasn't sure _what_she wanted anymore. No, she wasn't romantically interested in Yamcha, Kami; she'd gone over and over that in her mind for months! But would she have felt the same if Vegeta was playing on her mind?

Bulmas eyes widened as she heard the front door open and close, followed by her mother's giggling voice, reverberating through the entire house.

She swiftly got to her feet. She half expected for Vegeta to show up and she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, but nevertheless, she was happy she had some wanted company.

When Bulma entered the kitchen, dressed in a loose fitting sun dress, she found her mother and father standing together…_holding hands? _

They quickly separated from each other as they noticed Bulmas arrival and their eyes darted frantically around the room, as if they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't have.

Bulma shrugged and strolled over to the edgy couple, scrutinizing them while placing her hands on her hips.

"A few hours?" She questioned sternly.

They both glanced at one another, and then looked away again. Bulma sensed a sudden role reversal, as if she was punishing a couple of naughty kids. This was very unlike her parents.

Bunny stepped forward, ready to answer.

"Yes well, me and your father got a bit carried away with our fishing." She trailed off in to a squeaky giggle.

Bulma, still not impressed, cocked an eyebrow at her neurotic mother. "Hm?" She murmured, before realisation smacked her in the face, causing her eyes to widen in disgust.

"Oh…Eurgh…Please, spare me the details." She said, while throwing her hands and turning away from them.

She didn't really want to know about what her parents got up to, but it was strange of them to be so…adventurous. She stopped and turned her head slightly, looking at her father from her peripheral view.

"What were you rummaging through the drawers for then? This morning?" She said cautiously.

Dr Briefs uttered something inaudible and dropped his head in shame, while Bunny continued to giggle. At this point Bulma was feeling a bit ticked off, her parents were acting like kids.

"What, dad? I didn't catch that?" She turned around and shouted clearly.

He kept his head to the floor, but spoke clearly, "Batteries."

Bulma felt perplexed for a moment, "Batteries? For wha…" She grimaced, then sucked her teeth, "…You know what?" she lifted a finger up and pointed at both of them, "You disgust me." She stated, while her face flooded with embarrassment.

Bunny continued to giggle at her daughter, noticing the shame painted on her face. Bulma swivelled around, she'd heard enough for one day, any day for that matter. She saw the door way to the sitting room as her salvation before her mother's high pitch voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Honey, I bought you a few things from this cute boutique I found." She said in an overly enthusiastic tone.

This got Bulmas attention straight away, she instantly forgot about her randy parents and stormed over to her mother, who was holding out a large shopping bag. Before she took a glance at the contents, she careful took in the details of the bag. It was black and in pink, whirly writing it said 'The Secret Drawer'. Bulma held her breath, while holding the bag at arm's length. She rolled her eyes…_Oh Kami, why me? _

Without any further questions, she darted at disapproving glare at both her parents, took the bag and head for her room. She expected their return to be somewhat a joyous occasion, but no. They had to go on a secret little romantic getaway and her father disappointed her the most! Pretending he was going fishing, _what a joke!_

Once Bulma reached the safety of her room, curiosity took hold of her sanity and she took an eager glance inside the shopping bag. She instantly saw the black, lacy underwear and the toys and trinkets flashing at the bottom of the bag. She even saw a pair of nipple tassels, nestled amongst a transparent bra.

_Why?_

She grimaced and tossed the bag under her bed, never to be seen _ever _again. Bulma dived on to her bed and decided to watch a bit of T.V. She needed some time to cool off; the day could only get better…

After flicking through numerous channels, she concluded that there was nothing interesting on. She had seen at least ten advertisements for 'singles in your area' and 'romantic holiday for two in Paris'. Frankly, she felt sick.

She landed on a channel in the 200s, showing a man and woman wrestling on a chat show.

_This could be interesting,_ she thought as she crawled to the end of her bed, placing her head in her palms.

It turned out that the man had been cheating on his wife with a horse and she only found out when she found a horse shoe in their bed. They lived on a farm of course, yet the man was stupid enough to bring the horse inside. How he did it, Bulma couldn't quite grasp. She didn't bother questioning why, nothing surprized her these days, and the world had become a strange place. Heck, a couple of androids were coming to destroy the planet in two years; man, woman, horse, who cares?

At the end of the programme the couple reconciled their differences, and the woman decided to look past the fact that her husband was also in love with a horse. She vowed to stay with him regardless of his obscene fetish for farm animals and they lived happily ever after.

_Some men make me sick, _she thought as she stretched the entire length of her body. She sat up, blinked a couple of times and glanced over at the alarm clock on her bed side.

7:30pm.

_Urgh._

At least she felt refreshed and stress free. She stood up, contemplating what to do with herself and how to occupy her time. She looked out the window and into the darkness, watching the trees swaying in the gentle breeze.

_I wonder where that lug head is._

Maybe a quick jog would help clear my head…?

She agreed with herself and changed in to her sportswear. She grabbed her running shoes, lacing them up quickly with anticipation. Hopefully by the time she returns home, her mother and father would have calmed down and she'd be free to roam around the house without feeling sick to her stomach.

Bulma only ran around the block before realising how unfit she was. It took her a good ten seconds to realise that that wasn't one of her best ideas, and after twenty minutes, she _slowly _jogged home. The darkness was great, the streets were empty and the town was quiet. It was relaxing, minus the palpitations and the constant stitch in her side. She concluded that she'd do it again sometime; just not any time soon.

As she made it to the entrance of CC, she stopped, bent down and placed her hands on her thighs in an attempt to regain some oxygen. She snapped her head up to see a faint figure, leaning against the wall beside the front door. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she couldn't decide whether that was a small heart attack or the fact that she could see the one person she wanted to see all day.

As she walked closer, she began to make out the silhouette of the Prince, casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his bare chest.

_Yup. Definitely him, _she thought with glee.

She picked up her shoulders and strolled over to him, her breathing still erratic from the 'jog'.

"Hello mister", she said while prodding him in the chest.

He stood up straight and waved his hand across his chest, to swat her away. "Get off." He winced, "You smell disgusting." He spat while wrinkling his nose in protest to the foul odour.

Bulma frowned and took a step back, his words hurtful to her own pride. "Well yeah. I've just been for a jog…The smell of success!" She said proudly while flexing the small muscles in her arms.

This pathetic display caused Vegeta to smirk, before continuing.

"No."

Bulma blinked. "What?" she spoke indignantly.

He took a step to the side, distancing himself from her. The smell was overpowering.

"You smell like that scar faced buffoon, who you like to drag around." He said while wrinkling his nose once more.

Bulma arched an eyebrow and folded her arms. _How can he smell Yamcha…I haven't even touched him._

"Err…How?"

She quickly shrugged, now knowing what Vegeta meant. "He came over before." She sighed, "He tried it on with me again, the jerk. So I threw him out, simple as that." She said with dignity.

Vegeta deepened his frown. He didn't particularly want to know the details; he just wanted her to get a wash; he wasn't his usual cheery self either. The anniversary of his mother's death was looming and despite his best efforts, the memories came flooding back. He tried to occupy his time and train harder, but the harder he tried, the more he'd slip up. The woman wasn't his main concern, but he knew that she'd probably notice a change in his behaviour with her hawk eyes and go on about it. So he decided to train elsewhere for the time being. Assuming that when he returned, a decent meal would be laid out for him, but to his complete dissatisfaction, he returned to an empty kitchen and an empty fridge. He roamed around the house looking for the old idiots, and when he reached the second floor corridor, he became overpowered with the smell of arousal. At first he expected it to be Bulma, she was a disgusting vixen after all, but as he advanced down the corridor and the smell got stronger, he froze in horror. Before taking in any deeper thoughts upon the situation, he darted outside to get some fresh air, which wasn't tainted by the foul smell of archaic mating. He sensed Bulmas arrival and without thinking, he found himself waiting rather eagerly.

"Hn." He uttered, "I don't care what you and that fiend have been doing, just get rid of that _disgusting_ odour." He lied, he somewhat cared a little.

Bulma blinked and watched Vegeta in awe, before snapping back, "I can't smell anything." She stated, before lifting up her arm and sniffing her arm pit. She didn't really care about how she acted around Vegeta; he seemed to be able to tolerate her occasional un-feminine behaviour. She mused for a moment and pulled her head away from her arm pit. She noticed a difference in Vegeta, he wasn't as demanding as usual, and he seemed low or quite sad.

"So…Have fun on your little adventure?" She questioned, curiously.

Vegeta folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. "Plently." He stated sarcastically, knowing this was the beginning of an interrogation.

Bulma pushed him further, "not very responsive today are we?" She said with a pout.

Vegeta knew this would happen and he didn't want to start answering her futile questions. There was no point in letting her in on his problems. What could she do? Nothing.

"Whatever. The older woman and man have gone to bed. I had no choice but to wait upon your arrival." He said, while turning his head to the side.

Bulma looked at her watch, confused. "Gone to bed? It's only eigh…" Her eyes widened with horror. "Awh…What has gotten in to them today…" She whispered and as she looked up she could see a slight blush across Vegetas cheeks; she guessed he also knew what they were getting up to.

_How humiliating._

She didn't want to talk about their behaviour, as she and Vegeta both clearly found their actions repulsive. So Bulma switched the topic.

"Assume I'm going to cook, huh?" She said while crossing her arms.

"It's your duty." He stated clearly.

"Well, I thought it was my duty to get a wash?" She teased.

Vegeta stared at the strange woman, watching her chest rise and fall. Bulma noticed and blushed slightly, before taking her hand and wiping the sweat of her forehead. She didn't know why, but she thought it would be a good idea to proceed to wipe the sweat on to Vegeta, seeing as he couldn't get enough of her sweaty physique. So she did. She carefully stroked her sweaty palm across his shoulder, while smirking viciously.

Vegeta stiffened at her touch and grimaced as he felt the moisture cool on his dry skin. Why would such a beautiful creature do such a vile thing? He didn't want to succumb to her childish behaviour, although her scent was now bubbling on his shoulder and he didn't know if he'd be able to control himself.

Bulma took a step back, disappointed by Vegetas silent reaction. He was acting differently indeed, quieter and less aggressive. But why? Bulma recollected the conversation they had together while she was ill, so he was fully capable of talking to her. He just needed an opening.

Vegeta shuddered before asking, "Aren't you going to minder me about where I've been?" He said, purely out of curiosity.

Bulma bit her tongue.

_Is this a trap?_

She did want to know, of course. But she knew he wouldn't just _tell_ her.

They both stood under the starry night sky, half occupied by a full moon, staring at each other. Bulma concluded that she wouldn't bother asking what he'd been doing, it wasn't any of her business and Vegeta would have to open up in his own time.

"Nope." She laughed, "That's your business."

Vegeta was impressed by her behaviour but a little disappointed, although he wasn't too sure whether or not he would have told her anyway. "Hmph."

Then without thinking clearly Bulma placed a delicate hand on Vegetas forearm.

"But if you ever want to talk…" She said in almost a whisper.

Vegeta lashed his arm from her grip and scoffed aloud. "Get off me!" The warmth of her hand was still lingering on his skin.

Bulma was taken aback by his rash behaviour. "Jeez…Yeah…Ok..." She mustered up a hint of sarcasm behind her genuine disappointment.

"What in your feeble brain gave you the idea that I'd ever want to talk to you?" He said, followed by a snort of amusement.

Bulma was beginning to get pissed now; she'd had enough of men today, even the unpredictable ones like Vegeta. "Oh, I don't know…Because I'll listen." She stated with clear agitation.

Vegeta refrained from laughing and frowned. "I have nothing to talk about." He said sternly, while scrutinizing Bulma.

She felt her anger disintegrate, while she saw the sadness in Vegetas eyes. "Sure you do…I'm interested to know about you." She said, trying not to sound too keen.

Vegeta smirked falsely, "I thought it was _my _business?" He said while glancing in to her wide eyes.

Bulma dropped her head, knowing she wouldn't get anything out of this ape. "I suppose it is." She said softly.

"Then I think it's time you go…" He said clearly, "And hurry up, I'm hungry." He continued with a smirk.

Bulma looked up at him, perplexed. "Fine. But one day you're gunna want to talk to someone…" She sighed, "…and no one will listen." She said faintly, with a voice full of regret.

With that she walked past Vegeta and into through front door. She did need a wash, but she wasn't doing it for his sake. She needed a little break away from all the stress. Between Yamcha, her horney parents and a very complicated Saiyan, it was only natural for her to go a little bit insane today.

She was disappointed with Vegeta, and was beginning to lose hope. He was the only person she could talk to, but the only problem was, he wasn't a very talkative guy. Bulma decided she wouldn't push the matter any further. If wants to talk to her, he will, in the meantime, she would keep her mouth shut.

As difficult as that may be.

It was 12:00 am before Vegeta decided to show his face. Bulma was sitting at the kitchen table, mindlessly glancing through a gossip magazine. She flicked through the pages quickly, as nothing really interested her any more, maybe a year ago she would have drooled over a juicy piece of gossip; not now. She refused to look at Vegeta as he stalked through the kitchen; she made a promise to herself and planned to stick to it.

Vegeta checked in the oven and found some tuna pasta bake. He glanced over at Bulma, assuming she had made it, yet he wasn't in the right mind to thank that vixen. He pulled it out, grabbed a fork and proceeded to dig in. He made sure he kept his distance. He'd been flying around the length and breadth of the planet, dwelling upon whether or not he should let her in on a few of his secrets. Nothing seemed to scream out to him, so he only assumed it wouldn't be such a bad idea. But it wasn't any of her concern, and it would only make the situation between the two of them worse. She wouldn't stop at merely accepting information; she would chip away until he gave in to her completely.

He placed his empty dish on the side and kept his stare fixed on her perfect frame. Even in a baggy t-shirt, she looked exceptional.

"What's so interesting about me that you must know?" He said with a smirk.

Bulma heard the words, but she refrained from deterring her gaze from the pages before her.

"It doesn't matter, Vegeta." She said, followed by a sigh. She licked the tip of her index finger and turned the page over, trying to keep her composure. She almost bucked out of her chair when Vegetas hand came crashing down on the page in front of her. She gasped and looked up at him, seeing a deep rage in his onyx eyes.

Vegeta didn't expect her lack of enthusiasm to strike a chord in his chest, but it did. Before he knew it, his memories came flooding out of his mouth and she listened.

"I had everything. A mother, father, an entire race bowing down before me." He crushed the pages of the magazine, "Frieza took it all. Killed my family and enslaved my people." He stared into Bulmas eyes, noticing the tears bubbling behind them. He couldn't sense her fear, so why was she crying?

"Now you tell me what is so interesting." He continued, with his eyes still locked on to her moist ones.

Bulma couldn't speak. She saw the emotion in his eyes, the passion. She suddenly became overwhelmed with sorrow and guilt. How could she have been so careless as to force out the memories which caused him so much pain?

She could see it clearly in his face.

"A-", was all she could utter, before Vegeta cut her off.

"Save it for someone who cares." He stated harshly, while letting go of the crumpled pages.

He didn't regret spitting venom at her, but he didn't expect to provoke such a reaction. He felt a pang of sadness, partly from recollecting the painful memories and because he didn't intentionally want to hurt Bulma.

Without dwelling upon these _feelings _any longer, he snarled, and stalked out of the room.

Bulma dropped her shoulders and sighed heavily. He intended on letting her know the information, otherwise he wouldn't have let it slip. It's wasn't like Vegeta to go and spew out his problems and especially not to Bulma.

He wanted her to know. But why?

Bulma assumed that that was Vegetas way of opening up. She already knew that information from what Goku had told Chichi, but when she looked into Vegetas eyes, she saw a whole new perspective.

She wiped the tears from her cheek and straightened out the pages of the magazine.

_He's so alone._

She thought about how she could help, but the fact was, she couldn't. What could she possibly do, other than leave him alone? The truth was useless to avoid, she cared deeply for Vegeta and wanted nothing more but to help him.

Would he allow it?

_Probably not._

Would it be worth taking a shot in the dark for someone she barely knew?

She mused over the questions. Maybe the fact that he'd 'opened up' to her just moments ago, meant that he _was_giving her the 'green light' to ask him. Although judging by his reaction, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to go down that round, not yet anyway. She wondered why she was so interested, but she knew the answer to that, admitting it to herself was hard enough. She couldn't imagine telling Vegeta about her feelings towards him, he'd probably kill her on the spot, or just laugh at her. Either way, it would hurt.

She sighed once more and swallowed a dry lump in her throat.

_Why me?_


	11. An Explanation

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 11  
><span>An Explanation<span>

* * *

><p>Something unusual stirred Bulma back in to consciousness, after a long satisfying slumber. There was the absence of a particular humming sound she had become familiar to hearing every morning. She had become accustomed to the noise, now she was awoken by silence and it wasn't something she wished to hear. It was eight o'clock, meaning that Vegeta should be well into his training, although over the last couple of days he had a tendency of venturing out to the great outdoors of planet earth. Something peculiar was looming, and Bulma was certainly going to find out.<p>

Not because she was a nosey bitch, no, but because she was concerned about Vegeta. Yes, she cared about him and he was becoming more anti- social by the day. Sure, he wasn't Mr chatty man to begin with, but Bulma did enjoy the little bit of conversation he had provided recently and wasn't ready to give that up so soon. Her days were becoming monotonous and he seemed to be the only form of entertainment, and she did think he was really cute, but that's beside the point. It was only the night before when he shed a glimpse of light about his past, which ultimately led Bulma to tears.

She didn't really know why she cried, maybe it was because she felt sorry for him, but she knew he would never accept any sympathy. She thought about other ways to let him know she would be there for him, but because of his sheer behaviour issues she found it impossible to conjure up any logical plan. So she procrastinated, knowing it would be a greater challenge, even _she_may not be able to handle.

Curiosity would always get the best of Bulma Briefs.

She stretched out of bed, shot one glance at the treacherous weather outside and sighed.

_Guess it's another exciting day indoors, Bulma!_

She quickly freshened up and grabbed a pair of grey jeans and green t-shirt combo; she wasn't dressing up for anyone. As she slowly creaked in to the corridor, she looked longingly down the left side, where Vegetas room was. She assumed that he may have over slept, but that would be very unusual, and as always, she found herself being pulled towards him; despite being in the knowledge that he could possibly blow her to pieces.

_No harm in trying!_

She shuffled down the corridor, on a mission, before realising that if he was in his room he would have already sensed her in-coming presence. A wave of stupidity washed over Bulma, but she carried on shuffling regardless. As she reached his bedroom door, she pressed her head against it and strained her ears to the point of agony. But no. Nothing was heard, not to human ears anyway. Bulma had two options, either go in and risk not leaving alive or just accept he doesn't want to be bothered by anyone and get on with her day.

_Hmmm…_

For once, Bulma decided to go with the latter. Only for the fact that he did seem genuinely upset the other night and she'd never really faced Vegeta when he was upset. She shrugged and made her way down in to the kitchen to find her mother.

As usual, Bunny was pottering around the kitchen, with a beaming smile across her never aging face. Bulma smiled at her mother, before sitting down at the kitchen table and glanced through the day's newspaper. After a couple of heated minutes Bulma snapped her head up, ready to raise a few questions to her ditzy mother.

"Mom?" She watched as her mother spun round, with a wooden spoon in her right hand and a smudge of chocolate sauce on her left cheek.

"Yes dear?" She beamed.

"Has…Vegeta been hanging around at all today?" She said the last bit quietly, after realising her mother's assumption over the pair.

To Bunny, Bulma and Vegeta were madly in-love, despite Bulmas protests and after a month of accusations, Bulma just shrugged and let her mother believe what she wanted.

Bunny flashed her teeth, _how darling! _She thought to herself, knowing how concerned Bulma must be for her man!

"Well." She stated, putting the spoon down on the work surface. "I didn't see him at all this morning. I guessed he was sick or something, so I brought him up some breakfast and he told me to leave him alone for the _entire _day!" She gasped.

Bulma mused at the thought of Vegeta sounding so…polite. In reality, he probably threatened to kill Bunny if she did so much as breathe near him. The thought caused Bulma to grin, before reluctantly snapping back to focus and sighing.

Bunny placed a finger to her chin and closed her eyes, deep in thought. She opened them wide and gasped. "I know! Why don't you try talking to him? I'm sure he'll be grateful of _your _company, dear!" She trailed off into a high pitch giggle, as she spun around and resumed whatever it was she was messing about with.

There _was_ _that _option, but something was holding Bulma back. She was no coward, but there was no need to jump to conclusions. Maybe Vegeta was just tired, or was in fact ill. Either way, he would be able to handle it by himself, right? Bulma slumped in to her chair and decided to leave Vegeta to fend for himself…At least for another couple hours anyway.

Less than a couple of seconds past when Bunny called out to Bulma again, catching her by surprize.

"Oh and Yamcha called. Says he wants to talk to you and it's important!" she exclaimed and stared at her daughter in angst.

Bulma didn't have to think twice about her answer, "No!" she ordered before sauntering out the kitchen, leaving a bemused Bunny.

By four in the afternoon, Bulma was beginning to worry. Vegeta had yet to show his face and the day was quickly winding away.

_What if he's dead? _

She gasped at the thought and without any further-a-do, she ran upstairs and lightly knocked on his door. Unsurprisingly, there wasn't a response, so she pushed the matter a bit further. She placed a palm on the door and leaned in to it impatiently, rocking back and forth on her bare heels.

"Are you okay in there?" she said as soothingly as she possibly could.

"Go away", was the immediate response she received.

Unimpressed, Bulma took a step back, placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes.

"It's just a bit of concern, Vegeta. A yes or no would be _great._" She tried to hide the annoyance in her voice, but this guy was impossible!

A subtle growl was heard and Bulma raised her eyebrows in surprize.

"Do you have a problem with your hearing?" He barked viciously, "GO AWAY."

Bulma was taken aback with surprise. He sounded really aggressive and usually she wouldn't stand for it, but this time she would make an exception.

"…Fine…" she mumbled, before heading towards her own room and throwing herself on to the bed. As she slowly moulded into the mattress, her thoughts came streaming out uncontrollably.

_There's definitely something fishy going on…_

She hadn't experienced an _upset_ Vegeta before. Sure, she could handle an angry or pissed off Vegeta, but she didn't know where to begin with this one. That's when realisation smacked her in the mouth. Who was the one person who Vegeta could relate to? Someone who was a similar age and was just as strange and perplexing as he was…_Goku,_ she mused sinisterly.

Perhaps Goku could try and persuade Vegeta to spill. At that thought, Bulma noticed that she was maybe becoming a bit obsessive, but she couldn't care less.

She had the decency to offer Vegeta a home and comfort, and he has done nothing but throw it back in to her face. She had a right to be on his case. Without further thoughts, she whipped her phone out of her back pocket and dialled Chichis number.

She guessed that Chichi wouldn't be too comfortable with the idea, as she also knew how volatile Vegeta could be, but Goku had an advantage over Vegeta and Bulma seriously doubted Vegeta would do anything stupid to the one person who knew the secret to becoming the legendary Super Saiyan!

After twenty minutes on the phone to Chichi, Bulma had completely digressed beyond her intentions and spend the entire time gossiping about trivial matters. She blinked a few times before throwing the question in Chichis direction.

"Can I borrow Goku for a bit?" She questioned, slightly anxious.

"What for?" She replied abruptly.

Bulma gulped a dry lump in her throat. She had to produce a pretty good excuse to get past Chichi undetected. Confidence struck and Bulma began to do what she could do best. Lie.

"Well, _I _don't need to borrow him…It's for my mom. She bought this new recipe book and she hasn't stopped cooking all day. She wanted to borrow Goku as her taster person thingie…" She trailed off into a nervous chuckle.

Astonishingly, there was no further discussion and Chichi bought the ridiculous lie. Maybe Chichi wasn't as smart as Bulma had once assumed. She did feel a little bit guilty, but nothing could stand in the way of her greed and curiosity.

Bulma put the phone down on to the bed and nearly died with fright when Goku appeared directly in front of her, with a massive grin on his face.

"Shit!" she gasped, while clutching on to her chest and trying to regain her breath.

Bulma proceeded to stand up and dig Goku in the arm, who evidently winced in pain. She knew she hadn't hurt him, but Goku was very responsive to any form of abuse.

"You scared the shit out of me…Stupid monkeys and your stupid powers…." She mumbled, while trying to recover from her near death experience.

Goku scratched the back of his head and nervously apologised to the fuming woman.

Bulma straightened herself up a nodded at Goku, who raised a curious eye brow before smiling brightly once more. She linked arms with the tall Saiyan and forcefully walked him into the corridor and stood him in front of Vegetas room.

"Right, by now Vegeta probably knows you're here…" she said orderly.

Goku stood rigid and turned to face Bulma.

"Uh…What's going on Bulma?" he questioned, followed by a small smile.

Bulma laughed haughtily and placed her hand on Gokus shoulder.

"Didn't Chichi tell you?" she grinned, "You need to try and talk to Vegeta because he's upset about something." She nodded. "And you're the only person he can relate to…and you can have some food _after _you've spoken to Vegeta." She looked into his eyes and pouted, hoping he would succumb.

Unaware to Bulmas flirtatious manner, Goku took a step back and looked at the wooden door before him.

"I dunno Bulma…He can be quite moody around people when he's upset – especially me…" He said while nervously backing away from the door.

Bulma stubbornly stood behind Goku and attempted to push him forwards.

"Don't be such a coward…You're a Saiyan, he's a Saiyan…Now go talk about fighting or something." She said, straining and pushing into Gokus steel like back.

_Jeez, this guy isn't going to budge!_

Goku didn't move any closer of course, but he turned his head to look at Bulma. There was a genuine look of fear in his puppy like eyes, but Bulma found it difficult to feel any sympathy for a guy who practically destroyed the most evil being in the universe!

"Just think. There will be a buffet waiting for you when you return-" Bulma gasped, as the door flew open and closed again, and she was in the knowledge that she was now standing in the corridor alone.

The simple mention of food and Goku knew what he had to do. Bulma smirked a sinister smirk before knitting her eye brows tightly together and straining her ears for any utterance between the two Saiyan warriors.

After a couple of silent minutes, Bulma began to feel agitated to say the least.

_What is that idiot doing?_

She placed her ear to the door but couldn't hear a single sound. They were either communicating telepathically or they weren't communicating at all. She stood leaning in to the wooden door, which blocked her from any 'action' and suddenly a huge blast erupted and blew up the wall beside her; shattering it to pieces. The plaster completely crumbled and splinters of wood and cement decorated the opposite wall. The explosion shook the entire second floor and knocked Bulma off her feet, landing flat on her back with an almighty crash.

Before even justifying what had happened, Bulma winced as her ears drums felt ready enough to pop.

"GET OUT!" The words which reverberated throughout the entire complex.

Bulma instantly recognised who the words emanated from and her assumption was quickly confirmed when a scorched Goku, casually stepped out of the newly created door way. His orange training clothes were singed, his face was covered in black smudges and one of the erect spikes on his head had a tiny flame flickering at the end of it.

Bulma gasped and stared at the dumbfounded Saiyan before her. Her mouth and eyes wide open. Goku smiled and dusted down the front of his pants before looking back up at Bulma and concluding.

"He doesn't really want to talk right now." He said, followed by a chuckle and a scratch of the back of his head.

Bulma shook her head in disbelief and got to her feet, her eyes still locked on to Goku.

"Urgh." She shrugged. "Well, if you can't talk to him, then no one can." She sighed, while glancing over at the mess created.

"Not really. Have _you _tried talking to him?" Goku naively enquired.

"Yeah…Several times." Bulma retorted.

"I think if you give it another shot…It might work." He said optimistically.

Bulma smiled at Goku. His optimism was something which proved him to be one of the best friends she'd ever have. He was so positive all the time. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever seen Goku seriously down before.

"He just blew up the wall! If that was me who went in there, I'd be dead!" She replied, astonished that Goku hadn't considered her humanity.

Yet, he continued to smile. "I doubt it…" He looked away from Bulma and giggled before blinking and turning back to face her. "…So where's the food?" he asked excitedly.

Bulma raised a suspicious eyebrow at her friend.

_What does he find so funny? There's_ _nothing funny about this!_

"Uh. Wha…" she blinked back to focus. "Erm, my mom has prepared some in the kit…"

Another gust of wind nearly knocked Bulma off her feet once more. Thankfully, the wall was there to save her from her fall. She realised, once again, Goku had left her without any consideration and flew down into the kitchen.

"Hey! That wasn't the agreement mister!" She hollered down the corridor, before giving one quick glance at Vegetas bedroom door, followed by a long sigh. She quickly snapped out of it and turned back to face the long empty corridor.

"Leave _me _some, you jerk!" She continued before running down the corridor after him.

It wasn't long before Goku had emptied the entire contents of the fridge, freezer and the larder; he left a short time after, readying himself for Chichis evening meal. God forbid he didn't arrive home in time for _that._

Bulma felt exhausted, even though she hadn't done anything particularly strenuous. Just witnessing Goku eat was tiring, what she needed to do was relax. She felt completely defeated, there was no progress with Vegeta and he had _yet_to grace her with his presence. Just the thought was encouraging a severe migraine. Bulma decided to give the whole thing a miss and have some 'me time'.

_A Bottle of wine and romantic film it is then!_

She trudged over to the fridge, pulled out a vintage bottle of red wine and poured herself a _very _generous glass. A limit of two glasses was on the cards, Bulma knew if she went over that there would be serious trouble.

It was 9:00pm and Dr Briefs and Bunny were nowhere to be seen.

_Perfect._

Bulma made her way in to the sitting room and carefully selected her favourite romance, Pride and Prejudice.

"Ah, Mr Darcy…" she said while absorbing the front of the dvd case.

She swiftly threw the dvd into the player and sat back in to the sofa; ready to become infatuated with the period drama.

After half a glass of wine, Bulma became completely absorbed with the drama on screen. Her heart felt heavy for the elegant women, the chivalrous men, the petticoats and the corsets…

_Ahhh…._

There wasn't anything else on her mind, as she gawped at the man on screen. She quickly stood up and dimmed the lights, to make the moment more perfect and to completely isolate herself from reality. As she sat back down, she felt warmth emanating from beside her, it was faint but it forced a shudder and provoked her to turn her head.

Panic coursed through her veins as she saw Vegeta sitting in the chair beside her, rigid and focusing on the screen before him. It looked as if he wasn't there at all. She chose to remain silent at this point; she didn't want to provoke another violent attack, like previously. So she focused her attention back on Mr Darcy.

For a moment, she pictured Vegeta walking into her bedroom, wearing an evening suit, complete with bow tie and waist jacket. She couldn't refrain from chuckling aloud at the crazy thought, which ultimately gained a shot of pure hatred from Vegeta. Bulma attempted to cover her laugh with a much exaggerated cough, pounding her chest and leaning forward. She leaned back and gave a look of relief.

_Someone give me a Grammy!_

Despite the images flickering on screen, the chatter amongst the characters and the lively atmosphere, Bulma had never felt more aware of silence in her life.

_Fuck it._

She thought as she turned towards Vegeta. That's when she saw it, or didn't see it for that matter. There was no frown or smirk, his face looked completely relaxed and there was a hint of disappointment apparent in his features.

_Urgh. Why is he even here?_

"You want anything to eat?" She asked, hopefully.

"No", was the quick response she received.

Pride and Prejudice suddenly lost its' appeal and Bulma acknowledged it was about time for another glass of wine. She swiftly got to her feet and made her way in to the kitchen, without glancing back.

As she poured herself another generous glass, she contemplated another vindictive plan, causing her to grin maliciously. This was the last option she could take, and then she would let the matter rest.

As she rummaged through the cupboards, thoughts flashed through her mind. That's when her hand landed on the large bottle; she pulled it towards her face and examined the label.

_Perfect._

She grabbed a small tumbler glass and poured the whiskey; throwing in two ice cubes. She had no idea what she was expecting out of the plan.

The plan to get Vegeta drunk enough, so that he would open up just a little bit.

She desperately wanted him to share with her, if getting him wasted meant he would open up, then getting wasted he would get.

When Bulma casually returned to the sitting room, she was over joyed to see that Vegeta was still sitting where she'd left him. Gracefully, she placed the tumbler on the arm of the chair and watched as Vegeta examined the glass. He stared at the glass for a few seconds, looking at it as if she had just spat.

"Are you insane?" He spat, looking coldly into her warm eyes.

"Drink it. It'll help." She stated, while sitting back down and taking a swig of her own drink.

"Help? Help what exactly?" He remarked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I dunno. Help you relax." That was the only logical explanation Bulma could produce, as she hid her face in her glass.

Vegeta glared at Bulma, unaware of her plan. He couldn't argue with the woman, just her presence was lightening his mood. That's why he decided to come down and sit with her, it was the only thing he could do. His depression was becoming heavier and the more time he spent alone, the deeper he would fall. He did want to speak to her before, but what would he tell her? That it's the anniversary of his mother's death and the only way he can deal with the torment is to block himself away from all society.

Usually it wouldn't be a problem, as he was on his own anyway, but he had integrated himself into this woman's house and lifestyle; he had to deal with his problems around other people and it was proving to be painfully difficult. When Kakarot showed up, he acted purely out of instinct and blasted him out of there.

What in her right mind gave her the impression he would need help from _him?_

Out of all the people…

He guessed it was due to her doing, which angered him more. He shook his head and took another look at the dark liquid. Despite how ominous she made alcohol sound, he took the glass and gulped the entire contents, without flinching to the sensation.

Bulma squeaked, "Ach. You're not supposed to drink it so quickly!"

Vegeta heard her words, but couldn't care less. He felt the liquid travelling down his throat, burning and numbing his mind. He closed his eyes. He hadn't ever consumed alcohol before, but he knew the effects it had on people and it never appealed to him. The smell of it was enough to make him wretch.

"I'll do as I please. Bring me another." He demanded, staring at Bulma, amused by the look of horror planted on her precious features.

"No. Not if you're going to do _that_." She said indignantly, while pointing a shaky finger at the empty glass.

"Woman. Bring me another dammit!" He barked, while shoving the empty glass towards her.

_Great,_ she thought. _I should have known. Vegeta is an angry drunk…_

She sighed heavily. At least she had gotten him to talk and that was a start. Although she was uncertain about how he would behave after another glass. He was Saiyan, so she assumed he would be able to withstand a large amount of alcohol without it taking any major effects. So she reluctantly gave in.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me in the morning when you get a major hang over." She mumbled while sulking off into the kitchen.

She decided to bring the bottle in, just to save her from continually venturing back and forth into the kitchen.

"You can pour it yourself, your majesty." She spoke sarcastically as she slammed the bottle on to the arm of the chair.

Feeling a little tipsy herself, she stumbled back on to the sofa, noticing Vegeta snatching the bottle and pouring another glass. Frankly, she was surprized he didn't gulp down the entire bottle as it was.

Five minutes and half a glass of wine later, Bulma began to feel the full effects of alcohol; causing her to feel lighter and cheerful. It was a shame there was no one to be cheerful with. Although, to Bulmas complete delight, the famous water scene with Mr Darcy appeared on the t.v screen, encouraging her to salivate. She slowly melted into a fantasy, involving Vegeta jumping out of the water, with nothing but his training shorts on, but she quickly snapped back into reality by the droning rumble of his voice.

"Twenty four years ago." He uttered. Not directing his speech at any one in particular. His eyes were still focused before him, not blinking or flinching.

Bulma blinked, "Hn?" She did hear the words perfectly, but was so astonished that her plan had actually worked. He was talking!

Her heart warmed when his eyes met hers and she found herself holding her breath.

"Twenty four years ago, today." He uttered in a mellow tone, no particular emotion apparent.

Bulma glanced over at the empty bottle of whiskey and gasped involuntarily. Vegeta refrained from any reaction.

_An entire bottle of JD only makes Vegeta slightly tipsy?_

Again, her apparent digression was taken from her by the sound of his voice.

"He violated her. Then slaughtered her like a lamb."

Bulma couldn't quite grasp what Vegeta was talking about, but he was deeply emotional about it and he provoked a pang of sadness in her heavy heart.

"Vegeta…" she uttered sincerely.

"I was just a child." He said as he clenched his fists tightly, beginning to shake with rage.

Bulma didn't know whether it was the wine or the fact that Vegeta was displaying raw emotion and to _her. _She became overwhelmed with sadness and sympathy.

She began to sob and held her hand over her mouth, trying to hide in shame. It was his problem and she was the one crying about it! She didn't know exactly who Vegeta was talking about, but she guessed it was his mother and if so, it was horrific. Bulma also began to feel anger coursing through her veins.

"I saw the entire thing." He added.

Vegeta had grabbed Bulmas attention once more and when she lifted her eyes to look at him, he was staring longingly into hers.

His cold eyes, reading her reaction.

Bulma exhaled, "Frieza is gone now" she stated. "He got what he deserved." She said through gritted teeth.

Vegeta scoffed and leaned closer towards Bulma, searching in to her expression.

"You don't get it do you?" he spoke in a condescending tone.

Bulmas head wobbled from side to side, unsure if what she was seeing was a dream. She looked over at the clock and saw that it was 12:00am. She gasped and soon realised Vegeta was still staring at her, an odd expression on his face. He wasn't frowning, he looked relaxed.

_He looks so handsome…_

"It should have been me!" He exclaimed and punched the arm of the chair, causing it to cave in on itself.

Silence soon emerged as Vegeta leaned back in to the damaged chair. Bulma watched the profile of Vegetas face, flickering from the flashing images on the t.v. screen. She became completely overwhelmed when she saw a single tear glistening in the corner of Vegetas eye. She watched in awe as it proceeded to crawl down his cheek and he ultimately winced in realisation.

Bulma instinctively sobbed a little more into her moist hand, causing Vegeta to responsively turn and face her. He watched the crying woman for a moment, taking in her beauty. Suddenly, he felt a wash of embarrassment emerging. He was sitting with a woman he barely spoke to and he was crying.

"Stop crying woman!" he ordered, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.

Despite telling her, she continued to cry. Her blue orbs submerged with moisture. His mind was clouded, but he knew he had to remove himself from her presence immediately.

Bulma watched as Vegeta got to his feet, noticing and unsteadiness in his step.

Vegeta took one last look at Bulma, his eyes still showing moisture. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and Bulma watched attentively, anticipating his words.

He clamped his mouth shut and stormed out of the room.

Bulma closed her mouth and wiped her face dry.

_What has just happened?_

She turned to face the t.v screen. Darcy was finally embracing Elizabeth in a moment of pure passion. Bulma sighed as she felt the warmth from the embrace. She needed to feel that warmth and she wanted it to be with Vegeta.

Whether it was the alcohol or the emotion flowing through the room, Bulma was pretty sure what she wanted.

The credits soon rolled up the screen and ultimately faded to black, leaving Bulma in the sitting room, alone with her thoughts.

The conversation with Vegeta was short and she tried her best not to interrupt him, but there was no doubt that she felt his pain.

His torture.

She could understand why he resented Goku. After all, he had taken Vegetas moment of triumph and despite his best efforts; he still hadn't reached the same level. Goku barely knew the torment Frieza had inflicted upon his race and Vegeta got a taste of it first-hand.

To see his own mother being slaughtered by that monster is the most painful image Bulma could depict. She couldn't imagine _that _level of pain and Vegeta couldn't do anything to prevent it. He had to wake up every day, with the weight of guilt resting upon his shoulders. No matter how hard he trained, even to the point of blacking out, he wouldn't be able to shake the past. Maybe if he had in fact destroyed Frieza himself, he would be different now.

But revenge doesn't satisfy the pain of loss.

Bulma pushed her bangs away from her face and searched the room, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Not only did Vegeta fail to destroy the one being who ruined his life the first time. He was beaten to it once more by that mysterious boy. It was becoming clear to Bulma, the pain Vegeta was feeling and his pride being shattered every time someone surpassed him. Primarily, she assumed that was just due to his arrogance and want for power, but he wanted to avenge his Saiyan race. The proud prince he was, he wanted to prove himself to himself. Or maybe it was for his parents.

She didn't know.

She _did_ know he was alone. He clearly longed for company, whether it was subconscious or not. No one forced him to sit with her and no one forced him to drink the whiskey. He may look like a tough nut, but it was nothing Bulma couldn't handle.

Bulma winced in pain as the lights flicked on, blinding her. She spun around, squinting and trying to make out the image before her. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed her parents standing in the doorway, staring in disbelief.

Bulma frowned and became agitated for no apparent reason. Her mother began to pace towards her cautiously, noticing her daughters tear stained face and blood shot eyes.

"Oh honey! What's the matter?" Her mother wailed while sitting beside her daughter.

"Bulma are you ok dear?" Her father interjected, sitting at the other side of her and putting a reassuring arm around her.

Despite the love and attention Bulma was receiving, she couldn't think of anything worse at that moment in time and wanted both her parents to vanish.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just watching Pride and Prejudice." She laughed nervously and watched her mother relax, letting her shoulders drop.

Dr Briefs on the other hand, was not so convinced.

"In the dark?" He questioned with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah. I always watch movies in the dark." Bulma replied indignantly.

Dr Briefs noticed the palpable aggression in Bulmas tone and carefully trudged further with the matter.

"Maybe a horror film, yes. But Pride and Prejudice?" He asked, knowing there was something else behind Bulmas tears.

Bulma snapped.

"Jeez dad. Lay off for once!" she exclaimed, knocking her father's arm off her shoulder and stumbling to her feet. "I'm going to bed." She stated.

She didn't look back at her parents as she wobbled out the room.

_What's their problem?_

Bulma wasn't going to bed. She knew that for sure. She glanced up the treacherous stair case and frowned; knowing the challenge it was going to prove.

_Time to go and visit a certain lonely Saiyan._


	12. Touche

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 12  
><span>Touché<span>

* * *

><p>The door cracked open, Bulmas breathing became heavier as she edged her way in carefully, if she put one foot out of line she'd collapse completely. There was no turning around, but she didn't really plan this crusade thoroughly, the only reasoning she could come up with was that her parents forced her to do this.<p>

_Yeah, let's go with that._

An entire bottle of red wine had been consumed and Bulma felt slightly nauseous, tired and horny, but most of all, lonely. She knew that Vegeta felt the same, so she decided to give him the best company he'd ever experience. It wasn't every day a stunning girl such as Bulma Briefs would simply fall into someone's lap. She just hoped he was still awake.

As she side stepped her way through the opening, leaving the door ajar, she squinted, looking for any signs of life. Vegeta was lying, propped on his elbows, watching her curiously and anticipating her intentions. He expected her visit, but ever since downing the bottle of poison she'd given him, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to go through with whatever it was she wanted; he could guess. He could barely keep his eyes open as he watched her standing in the centre of his room. His head began to sway and the room was floating and spinning, making it increasingly difficult for his focus to remain on the beautiful creature in front of him.

Bulma stumbled a bit, immediately retaining her balance, before advancing towards Vegeta at an alarming pace. Her heart jumped into her mouth as her body reacted a lot quicker than her mind. She didn't know what she was doing, but her being seemed to want to jump on Vegeta, regardless of her best intentions.

Her face was tear stained and the salty scent was lingering in the air, a mixture of arousal and distress.

A terrible combination.

Vegetas eyes widened as she approached, undecided about his next move, he was far too preoccupied trying to justify where he was and why he was spinning around, yet lying down stationary. The feeling was unpleasant.

Neither spoke, Vegetas lackadaisical posture encouraged Bulmas advancements. If he didn't want it, he would have made some form of discouragement, but no, he was seemingly awaiting her arrival.

Before Bulmas conscience could catch up with her intoxicated brain, she found herself crashing in to Vegeta, in an awkward yet satisfying embrace. She practically rugby tackled him back down onto the bed, straddling him and pressing her lips hard against his.

Vegeta, completely dazed and his back pressed against the warm mattress, tried to concentrate as Bulmas thighs rubbed either side of his waist. Suddenly, reality seemed like a dream and Vegeta was simply watching from afar. He knew he was kissing her, but he couldn't feel it, like his lips were numb and his entire body paralysed. No particular emotions ran through his mind, but he knew what was going to happen.

He forcefully coiled his tongue into her mouth, in one slick manoeuvre, licking her pallet and gripping on to her arms securely.

Similarly, Bulma couldn't focus on the task at hand and was helplessly letting Vegeta do whatever he pleased. She wavered between wrong and right, and couldn't justify her emotions, whether she was in fact aroused any more was another question; but it was happening.

The heavy breathing and extended sighs reverberated through the room and the corridor beyond, neither being breaking off to secure their privacy. Bulma didn't care if her parents walked in, her mother would be ecstatic about it, but she didn't know how her father would react and frankly she wasn't concerned. Besides, they were quick enough to start flaunting their sexual antics to the entire universe, why should she be any different?

She impatiently tore into him, grasping on to any exposed flesh and embedding her nails, trying to prolong his aggressive retaliation. Vegeta continued to bite and pull all over her slender body, hoping that he might feel, but to his complete displeasure, he wasn't in the right state of mind to perform the task at hand.

He angrily pushed Bulma over, planting her on to the mattress and he roughly positioned himself on top, watching her through blared vision. The next few minutes passed and they continued to fumble, grab and caress each other. Bulma began to draw impatient and she allowed her hands to frantically search down his lower abdomen, until they landed on the rim of his shorts; thankfully they were loose and not those ridiculous yet irresistible spandex things.

There was no time for messing around and in Bulmas mind, she just wanted it over with so she could go to sleep. Before she invaded Vegetas room, she desperately wanted the physical contact and despite his willingness, she now wasn't entirely sure whether she wanted to go through with it. Partly because her body was numb with intoxication and she was exhausted beyond belief; it just wasn't right. Yet her hands desperately continued to feel and grope Vegetas disappointingly flaccid bulge.

Vegeta focused on her actions and despite his best efforts, his body was failing to respond in the necessary circumstances. He began to grow agitated by the turn of events and when Bulma ragged his shorts down, he realised she was feeling more or less the same.

She gawped as she watched the limp organ swaying slightly before her half hooded eyes. They both panted and connected with a penetrating stare. To Bulmas surprise, she was pleasantly relieved with the turn of events, not because Vegetas ego would take a huge blow, but more for the fact that she could finally sleep off her drunkenness.

Vegeta was appalled to say the least and he deeply desired to be alone, that way he wouldn't have to dwell upon the present humiliation. He knew that as soon as she left, he'd be able to fall into a slumber, as his body ached for it. He watched as Bulma itched underneath him, her fully clothed form fidgeting and burning to escape.

Bulma propped herself up on to her elbows and with two light pats on Vegetas cheeks, she uttered.

"Oh well." Followed with a soft sincere smile.

Before Vegeta could comprehend her actions, or blast her to pieces, she had somehow wriggled her way underneath him and was out the door within a shot.

With one long sigh, a mixture of humiliation and relief, Vegeta flopped on to the mattress and closed his eyes. Her scent lingered and wound itself around his senses, keeping him from concentrating on the nauseating motion he was suffering from; and it soon send him off into his subconscious terror.

As soon as Bulmas head hit the pillow, she slipped into a dreamless sleep, no thoughts floating through her hazy brain.

* * *

><p>The bitter liquid scorched the inside of Bulmas lip as she swilled it round her mouth and as she pulled her lip, clamping it between her finger and thumb, she could just make out a red blotch, like a bite.<p>

_How…?_

She sat at the breakfast bar with a strong cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, not that she planned on eating anything. Thankfully, there was no vomiting and she was only suffering from a mild headache, but the pain was focused in the form of memories from the night before. She felt humiliated, primarily because she nearly gave everything to Vegeta and so_ easily_, but also because she took advantage of him when he was at his most vulnerable. Hopefully he didn't see it that way, but she dreaded his appearance and her best bet was to just keep her head down and ignore him.

Bunny was sitting at the opposite end of the table, grinning at her daughter while taking sly sips of coffee. Bulma caught her mothers glare and proceeded to stare at her in return.

"What?" she said abruptly, causing her mother to jerk forward, sloshing her coffee over the edge of the cup.

"Nothing dear…" She whispered and continued to grin.

"No, Mom. If you want to say something, then I'm all ears." She commanded.

"It's just…well…what's that mark on your neck?" she said, followed by a light giggle.

"What mark?" Bulma panicked.

There was no point in waiting for an answer, she could guess what the mark was and she grew frustrated with herself for not checking her entire body _before _making her way out her room. She felt around her neck and pressed until she felt a bit of discomfort. Judging by the twinge of pain she felt, she guessed it was a mammoth hickey right below her ear, big enough for her ditzy mother to point out. There wasn't any point in in stressing about it; ultimately, it was Bulmas fault for initiating the entire sequence of events.

As if on cue, Vegeta strode in to the kitchen with palpable irritation looming over him, like a threatening storm cloud ready to bust. He immediately stared at Bulma, who kept her head down, and he waited for her to give in to temptation and take a peek. He was distressed, he could barely recollect the events from merely hours ago and he wasn't pleased with the sensation he felt when he awoke; his shorts around his calves. He could remember little shots and knew that Bulma was with him, and he recollected his body not responding very well, but he couldn't remember much after that. Whether they fornicated or not was his main concern and why would he have given in so easily?

Bulma felt his eyes boring in to her head, forcing her to glance up and catch his eye. He simply edged his head in the direction of the hall.

"A word." He ordered and paced out into the hallway.

Bulma sighed, pushed her chair from beneath her and slowly made her way into the corridor to join him. Immediately, she found herself with her back pressed against the wall and Vegetas arms barricading any way of escape. His face was inches apart from hers, scrutinizing her and noticing a few marks and bruises from his very apparent previous lack of control.

Bulma watched in anticipation as he opened his mouth to sigh.

"Nothing happened last night, am I correct?" He said sternly.

Bulma immediately concocted a devilish scheme when she noticed the glimmer of anxiety in Vegetas eyes. Maybe playing along with it would satisfy her own ego, it would be interesting to see how Vegeta would react and hopefully he would eventually give in and come crawling to _her_. She seemed to have displayed a lack of self-respect last night and that was nowhere near acceptable.

"Nothing memorable." She stated with a grin.

Vegeta frowned at the woman in front of him, in a very compromising position, she was merely making a mockery of him and yet he was allowing her to do so.

_Damn woman._

She had barely gotten dressed and he recognised his own scent still lingering on her skin, so she obviously hadn't taken the time to wash. Then again, neither did he.

He tapped his index finger on to the wall for a few seconds, before relaxing and letting his arm drop to his side, although he didn't relax for long as he needed to ask her a few more questions.

"What was that filth you forced me to imbibe?" He questioned, with palpable frustration.

Bulma blinked and then scoffed at his unbelievable performance.

"Don't act all naïve, Vegeta." She rolled her eyes. "You mean the _whiskey._"

"Whiskey?" he spat, trying to prolong the charade.

Bulma dropped her shoulders, guessing he was going to act childish and stubborn about it.

_He clearly doesn't have much experience with beautiful women!_

"Yeah, lots of guys drink it…you obviously can't handle it." She teased.

He took a step back, folded his arms and laughed haughtily.

"I can handle anything." He announced with pride.

Bulma chided him for bypassing the memory of the night before.

"Not _anything_." She remarked with a sly grin.

"Hn?" he took an interest in her remark, but wasn't sure he _wanted _to hear her reply.

"You clearly can't handle anything, otherwise I'd be telling a different story right now…" She confidently closed the gap between them. "… and maybe I would still be in your bed now…" She said as she traced a seductive finger across his jaw line, causing him to wince.

He immediately backed away and scowled at her, in response to the look of glee across her features.

"You attacked me." He stated stubbornly.

"It isn't anything we haven't done before…Remember a couple of months back, hm?" She uttered, not that he needed reminding.

He flinched and turned his head away, so she couldn't read his reactions clearly.

"Psh. Don't remind me." He muttered under heated breath.

Bulma took immediate offence, despite knowing the truth; he just couldn't succumb to his burning desire for her.

"As if! You loved it…I could tell." She said as she shot a glance at his groin, followed by a playful wink.

Vegeta suddenly felt hot and took yet another step away from her.

_Vile._

"Urgh." He sighed. "Don't even _consider _attempting that stunt again." He said in the hopes that maybe she would take offence and jump on him right there.

Bulma rolled her eyes and imitated his pose. "Don't worry, I won't." she turned her head and watched him from her peripheral view, noticing no sudden movements.

At that moment, Dr Briefs came strolling down the hallway, with a newspaper under one arm and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Both Vegeta and Bulma refrained from staring each other to death and focused their attention on the incoming intruder.

Dr Briefs realised the pair were visually stabbing him and he quickened his pace to get out of their way.

_Kids! _He thought as he ran past and into the kitchen; out of sight.

With that minor distraction out the way, they continued to stare at one another. Bulma was thinking about teasing Vegeta and playing hard to get but she knew that would be too difficult on _her _behalf. So she decided to 'egg' him on a bit, maybe a few subtle hints here and there.

She took a step forward; her eyes still glued to his, and lightly kissed him on the lips. He didn't move and his lips were soft with ease, he was obviously comfortable with her interactions. She took a step back and pouted; widening her eyes flirtatiously.

"Although, I wouldn't stop you if you tried…" she uttered before stalking off down the hallway.

Vegeta frowned and sucked his newly swollen bottom lip, tasting the sweetness she left behind. At that moment he felt a sudden sensation in his lower regions which sent a wave of relief through his body. He glanced down and noticed his body behaving accordingly. Somehow he _had _to prove to Bulma that he was perfectly capable of blowing her mind, although now he felt that she believed she had the upper hand over him and he didn't feel too pleased with it. Things would have to change, but for now, he would fight off this frustration in a vigorous nine hour training session.

Later that evening, Vegeta stomped out of the GR to what _seemed _like an empty house. He let out a huge sigh of relief and headed for the kitchen, but before he could reach his destination, he sensed a flicker of the woman's ki, it was tiny but he could certainly feel it and it was close by.

His mind was screaming at him to follow his best interests and avoid looking for her, but his body seemed to ignore it as he paced through the house. He remained on the ground floor; her ki was flickering from beneath him. She seemed to be under the floor boards.

_What?_

He glanced around the corridor until his eyes rested on an open door, so he took his chances and headed for it without any clear purpose. He slowly walked down the narrow wooden stair case, noticing how dim the light in the room was and how damp and smelly the air was. That's when his eyes rested upon her frame. She appeared to be sitting on the floor, surrounded by cardboard boxes and bits of junk and paper scattered around the perimeter.

Bulma turned around and glanced up at Vegeta, holding a huge floral photo album in one hand and her other hand resting on the rim of a cardboard box.

She grinned, showing her teeth and waved him over to her.

"Hey Vegeta…You _have _to have a look at some of this stuff!" She laughed as she opened the album and pointed at various images.

Seemingly, Vegeta found it difficult to whip up the same enthusiasm she was showing, nevertheless, his legs gave in and he found himself stepping closer towards her. He made sure to keep a fair distance away from her, for some reason she was acting peculiar in his presence, which was creating an unusually uncomfortable atmosphere. He was quick to notice her lack of clothing, once again, she was wearing a skin tight vest top and mini shorts. It was only March, so the weather was still bleak, yet she seemed to wear very little whatever the weather. He was partly impressed.

He stood behind her and watched as she flicked through the pages of the photo album. He was completely bored and couldn't see any purpose in standing there, watching her getting excited over a few crappy photos.

Since Vegeta had opened up about his past, Bulma thought it appropriate to gather up some old photos, souvenirs and other trinkets from her past adventures. After all, she participated in one hell of an adventure with Goku and Yamcha and she loved sharing her memories with people. Vegeta just happened to be one of those people.

A few old photos cropped up, which Bulma wished Vegeta wouldn't see, like one of her kissing Yamcha while holidaying in the Bahamas and one of her practically naked when her bikini top fell down. Although Vegeta didn't utter a word, so she happily flicked through the entire album, until resting on a page which made her grin from ear to ear.

It was a very old photo, taken when she first met Goku, when she was merely a teenager. Her hair was scrunched into a very high pony tail and she was wearing a dreadful turtle neck dress, with her name printed across the front. Standing next to her was Goku and his tail was coiled around her leg, lifting up the back of her dress; Goku was getting an eye full of course.

_That kid…_

She chuckled to herself and glanced up at Vegeta, whose eyes were wide with interest. She glanced back at the photo and immediately caught on to why Vegeta was so intrigued.

_Gokus tail._

She snapped her head back up. "Oh yeah…Should have seen our faces when he transformed into that thing…I thought I was gunna die…in fact I nearly did!" she laughed loudly and let her gaze rest upon the memorable image.

The memories came flooding back and Bulma sighed, half in relief and half in sorrow.

"…Yeah, it's been a rough journey, alright…" she said as she reminisced.

With that, she snapped the album shut and continued to route through the boxes, as if Vegeta wasn't present at all.

He watched her, completely intrigued. He had no idea she had been through so much and when he glanced at the photo, where she was holding a hand gun, his eyes widened in surprise. He knew she was very head strong, but this took her up a notch.

As she delved deeper into one of the boxes, she continued to chat mindlessly; regardless whether she had Vegetas full attention or not.

"…Then you came along…" she rummaged further. "…and killed Yamcha…" she picked up a small object, rattled it and put it back. "…and Tien…and Chiaottzu…" she spoke without any signs of anger or regret for what had happened to her friends.

All Vegeta could do was grin at the memory of the weakling exploding into different pieces. He remembered it well.

Bulmas head reappeared from the bottom of the box and she seemed to have a shiny circular object in her hand. She was squinting at it and flipping it over several times, before realising it was another piece of junk and lobbing it back into the box with perfect precision.

"And now…" she said and she titled a half empty box to take a peek inside at the contents. "…We're waiting for these androids to try their luck…" she sighed and looked up at Vegeta, whose eyes were glazed over.

"When will these idiots learn?" she questioned, while finally looking up at him.

He blinked after hearing the question, he _was _listening but he was more preoccupied watching her backside bouncing up and down as she delved deeper and deeper into the boxes.

"Learn what?" he replied in a gruff voice.

"Learn that this planet is taken!" she said proudly. "And that we're willing to put up one hell of a fight!" She looked around at the mess she'd created and sighed. "Besides…Now we have you on our team, which puts us a step ahead." She smiled politely at him and watched his reaction.

Vegeta was slightly flattered by her praise, but he couldn't help but notice the message she was giving and it wasn't true. He was on his own…not on any 'team'.

He knitted his eyebrows together and watched her hopeful expression; ready to crush her.

"I'm not on anyone's team but my own." He stated, while folding his arms.

Bulma instantly took the ammo and fired.

"So you bat for your own team?" she uttered, trying to remain serious.

"Right." He dipped his head reluctantly, unsure why she had to ask twice.

Bulma laughed aloud, arched her back and threw her head back.

Unsurprisingly, Vegeta took offence and uncrossed his arms momentarily.

"What are you laughing at?" he spat, throwing mental daggers at her.

Bulma threw herself forward and looked at Vegeta.

"No wonder you obsess over Goku!" she teased.

"What?" he watched her completely perplexing behaviour, unsure whether to smack her hard across the face. "Tch. You're insane." He concluded, and crossed his arms again.

Bulma composed herself and sighed heavily. "Maybe I am. It wouldn't surprise me!" she said knowingly, while packing up all the boxes and stacking them on top of one another.

She clambered to her feet and dusted her hands off in accomplishment.

"So what brings you down here, stud?" She looked him up and down, enjoying the view. "The GR need fixing? You hungry? Or do you need your diaper changing again?" she chuckled in her own amusement.

Vegeta glowered at her, but couldn't think of a useful explanation as to why he _was _there. As far as he was concerned, he was making his way to the kitchen and got side tracked, but she didn't have to know that.

"I assumed I was alone, but to my displeasure I could sense you were down here and curiosity led me to see what you were scheming…Clearly nothing worth my time." He stated as he glanced around the room and then back to her.

Bulma rolled her eyes and stepped forward, in an attempt to cause a bit of delicious tension.

"Yeah, well I didn't ask you to come and stalk me…so there's no reason why you're still standing here." She stated proudly, while pushing her chest up and throwing her shoulders back.

Vegeta merely scoffed and took a step away from her. "I don't need your permission for anything, woman." He retorted.

"That so?" She inched closer. "So the next time the GR is bust, you just gunna _force _me to fix it?" she teased.

Vegetas skin began to tingle and nervousness crept up upon him.

"Something along those lines." He said with clear bravado.

The light bulb began to flicker, causing Vegeta to become overwhelmed with dizziness, before he knew it; she was directly in front of him, emanating her heavenly scent.

"I'll try my hardest _not _to resist." She spoke in a seductive tone, while flicking her bangs out of her face.

The words sent a shiver down Vegetas spine, and his instinct to ravage her was almost surfacing. He wondered why he hadn't done so already, she was presenting the perfect opportunity, yet she seemed to be overpowering him.

He stepped forward, pushing her back a couple of steps.

"There wouldn't' be any time to resist. I'd have you dead within a fraction of a second." He whispered in her ear, trying to overcome her stance.

"Terrifying…" she replied in a light whisper, which caressed the delicate skin behind his ear.

He closed his eyes, ready to take her in the flickering basement, but Bulma ducked and swept past him, giggling to herself as she darted up the stairs and out of sight.

If it was any other time, Vegeta may have punished her for her defiance, but for now he was beyond starvation and food simply prioritised itself over her.

Bulma was completely satisfied with herself but she couldn't help but notice a significant change in Vegeta. He wasn't as argumentative and he barely uttered a word when she was rambling on about her past.

_Hmmm…_

Maybe he was plotting something diabolical and she was just playing into his gloved hands.

_No way!_

She continued for her bedroom, and decided that _she _would be the one to train for once.

Somehow, after an hour and a half, Bulma was steaming through a vigorous kick boxing workout, dressed professionally, complete with hand wraps and high tops. She was currently thumping continuously in the CC ground gym, which was located at the far west side of the complex. The point being, she would be able to train in complete isolation and frankly, she was having the time of her life.

She repeatedly pounded and kicked the red punching bag, shouting obscenities and insults at the stationary obstacle. She had decided to take her training very personally.

"What was that frieza?" she referred to the punching bag, while squaring up to it and dancing on the balls of her feet.

"BAM!" She threw a heavy right hook and bounced back. "Didn't think so!"

A time out was in order, so Bulma trudged over to the window ledge and grabbed a towel to dab across her face. As she felt the fluffy material rub across her pores, she heard a slow and level clapping, coming from the other end of the room. She immediately removed the towel to see Vegeta, standing by the entrance, a smug and satisfied look printed over his face.

"Bravo." He spat sarcastically, while smirking at her attire.

Bulma dropped her arms to her side, and responded indignantly.

"Seriously?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you _actually _stalking me today…It's kinda creepy, Vegeta." She said as she placed the towel back on the ledge and returned to her stance, before punching the bag again.

Whether Vegeta was present or not, she was still pumped and wanted to continue.

She threw a hefty jab, right hook and upper cut combination, releasing a few grunts and sighs in the process. Vegeta laughed haughtily at the sight before him, causing Bulmas eye to twitch in irritation.

She spun around. "If you're gunna stand there and laugh, you can get lost!" Her face was growing crimson with a mixture of rage and adrenalin.

Vegeta was now leaning against the far wall, still watching and judging her every move. It was amateur stuff, but he was pleasantly impressed with her determination and fire; she didn't have to know that of course.

"Oh no. Please continue." He chuckled. "This is the best form of entertainment I've seen in a long time!" He looked her up and down suggestively.

Bulma swivelled around and continued to punch, occasionally breaking off and mumbling between different assaults.

"Won't be laughing when I ram my fist up your ass…" She jabbed a few warnings at the bag. "…But knowing you, you'd probably enjoy it…" she continued to mumble as she stepped into a huge right handed punch, causing the punch bag to swing furiously.

Vegeta remained silent, unaware of what she was hinting.

_What kind of disgusting threat was that?_

"You wouldn't get the chance." He retorted over confidently.

With her back still facing him, she continued to punch and utter replies, doubtful that he could hear her at all.

"I'll do it right now if you want?" she threatened. "Whatever tips your scales Vegeta…" she remarked with a sly grin.

"My scales? Wha…Shut up." He was completely flummoxed by her twist on the English language he had grown to know and he had no choice but to put a stop to it.

After several seconds, Bulma began to feel slightly self-conscious, the silence thickened around her, apart from her heavy breathing and attacking throws, there was no other sound. She was being spectated.

She spun around and placed her hands on her hips, noticing Vegeta casually leaning against the wall and watching her attentively.

"C'mon. This is invading privacy now." She stated.

A huge grin appeared on his face as he conducted his reply.

"Only returning the favour." He retorted with a twisted grin.

A blush rushed up to Bulmas face, she recalled the many times _he_ had spotted her peering in while he was training, and she would continue to watch despite his protests.

_Urgh, _she thought in defeat and began to punch harder at the victimised bag.

Maybe if she ignored him for a little while longer, he'd just get bored and go away. Although a part of her was enjoying the attention he was giving her.

Another couple of seconds passed, Bulma threw intense punches, continually pummelling and pounding the punch bag in front of her. She pulled back a final right arm, ready to throw, when she felt a large hand envelope her own. She froze and stared directly in front of her, not wanting to give away her secret glee. Her body tingled and her stomach did summer saults as she felt the heat being created between their bodies.

He slowly pushed her arm down to her side and fixed it so that she wouldn't attempt to return her stance. The immediate arousal was becoming infuriatingly apparent, stinging his nostrils and clouding his mind. In an attempt to overcome it, he slowly lifted his arm up, aiming at the punch bag.

"Here, let me help…" and with one quick flash of light, the bag combusted and dropped into tiny pieces on the floor.

The butterflies soon disappeared as Bulma gawped at the sight before her. Vegeta would simply have to become a replacement for what he'd destroyed.

She locked eyes with the smug Saiyan and squinted at the grin across his face.

"Now, why'd you do that, monkey?" She had to pull out the big guns, so she squared up to him, despite knowing he'd pulverise her within a split second.

Vegeta crossed his arms, not reacting to her advances.

"It was a one sided battle. You were clearly losing." He chuckled.

A thought entered Bulmas red mind and she decided to twist the situation.

_Hmmm…_

"So you were protecting me." She concluded to herself.

"No."

"That's what it looked like to me." She fluttered her eye lashes at Vegeta, who was now displaying a look of pure horror.

"Well, you need your eyes checking." He retorted.

"Hmph." She shrugged and grinned profusely and stepped closer to Vegeta.

A sinister action entered her head, and she half hoped that he wouldn't remember, but she certainly did and it was similar to a 'get out of jail free' card, so she made her advances towards him.

He stood rigid, patiently waiting to call her bluff.

_She wouldn't possibly try anything!_

Although he couldn't hide the bead of sweat which was forming between his brows.

With two soft pats on his cheeks, Bulma uttered the most painful words in Vegetas hazy memory.

"Oh well." She whispered, before smiling and trotting off, leaving Vegeta to dwell amongst his thoughts.

The situation seemed to play over and over in his mind, noticing how familiar the words sounded.

He frowned for a moment before his eyes slowly widened in horror, slash, realisation.

He remembered.

He clenched his fists, causing his knuckles to grow white through lack of blood flow and tried to focus his mind on happy thoughts. He didn't have any happy thoughts of course.

_Don't make any sudden moves._

A plan to destroy her was presenting itself, but he had to prove to her that what happened the other night was _not _a regular occurrence and when he's finished with her, she'll have to eat those words!


	13. Blossom

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 13  
><span>Blossom<span>

* * *

><p>The early cherry blossom petals floated softly to the ground, leaving a delicate pink carpet on the lawn of the Capsule Corp grounds. Each and every sound or utter was as sweet as the last. The chattering amongst a congregation of starlings, the blackbird regally calling for his mate, the humming bees and the soft breeze tapping at the blinds in Bulmas bedroom. The morning sun light tickled her porcelain skin, provoking her to awake from a nights rest. She rolled over, facing the ceiling, and listened attentively for all the individual sounds.<p>

She could hear the GR drone, so Vegeta was already up and training, which he had been doing non-stop for a week. She could also hear the faint sound of lawn mowers and hedge trimmers; as soon as a glimpse of sun shine was spotted, the population rushed out and attempted to do all the simple things they had missed so much over the winter. It was warm outside, but not hot, and Bulma could guarantee there would be people strolling across town half naked and greased up in sun lotion; including her mother. It made no difference to Bulma whether or not it was warm or cold; she wore what she wanted any day and today it would have to be her navy blue, striped t-shirt and mustard skirt, which rested nicely just above the knees.

Her train of thought was immediately disrupted by a loud screeching noise, emanating from the front lawn. Without hesitation, she shot up and ran to the edge of the balcony, leaning over the railing and letting all her weight rest on her rib cage. She swung out further and frantically searched for the cause of the ear piercing screams, hoping someone wasn't seriously hurt. She quickly guessed her parents were out as her mother hadn't questioned the noise and Vegeta couldn't possibly hear anything while he was training; even if he did, he wouldn't abort his precious training for something as trivial as someone in agonising pain.

Bulma quickly grew anxious and frustrated, not being able to see anything and the sound was becoming louder and unbearable. She winced and squinted, trying to pin point the exact area from where it was sounding. Whatever was causing this noise was small enough to go undetected by human eyes, which led Bulma to narrow down the evidence.

She sighed and raced out on to the lawn, swivelling and pivoting round, creating an inevitable pal of dizziness. The dew on the lawn crept in between Bulmas toes and soaked her bare feet, but that wasn't a priority; she had to find out where the distressing sound was coming from. Her heart was feeling heavy just listening to it, Kami knows what she would feel when she becomes face to face with it.

That's when she saw it, huddled in a corner, immersed in a pile of cherry blossom petals, a black wing poking out and a little orange beak peeking from amongst the wreckage. She sprinted over to it and removed the damp petals with her feet, before crouching down and getting a closer look at the panic sickened creature.

It was a male black bird and it had a unique white flash at the top of his head, like a tufty Mohawk. The bird screeched and attempted to challenge Bulma, opening its mouth occasionally and releasing a slight hiss, but Bulma only grew more concerned for the bird as she slowly edged a hand closer to it. It was definitely injured and as she removed a significant amount of pink petals from its body, she could see clearly that it had broken its wing.

"Awh, you poor guy. What have you done to yourself?" She said as she reached over for it.

All the bird could do was snap at Bulmas fingers, causing her to shriek out in pain, pulling her hand back and throwing mental daggers at the stubborn bird.

"Hey mister! You're in no position to be attacking people." She spat as she scowled at the proud creature.

It kept its guard up, hissing and edging closer to Bulma, but it merely flopped around, unable to defend itself properly. Bulma felt a thud in her heart as she watched it, trying to protect itself, despite its injuries.

"Wait there!" she ordered, before clambering to her feet and running inside the house.

She reached the kitchen and routed through her mother's 'recycle' cupboard, which had a huge selection of plastic bags and cardboard boxes, and it only took a fraction of a second for Bulma to grasp on to an old shoe box and run out onto the lawn again.

The bird was still huddled in the same spot and continued to hiss at Bulma.

"Oh give it a break, will ya!" she spat.

She tore chunks of grass from the lawn and picked up a few soggy leaves, before placing them into the box; for now. She had to get the bird inside so she could take a better look at it and she couldn't determine how bad the injury was, so time was a huge factor. She knelt down on the damp grass and edged closer to the bird, her palms out in a reassuring gesture. Despite her best efforts, the bird continued to lunge attacks at her and she concluded that the best way to help it was to quickly grab it, but she didn't want to create any more damage; plus she couldn't be bothered traipsing back into the house and rummaging around for a pair of gloves. With that in mind, she moved her right hand to the left side of the bird, causing its beady eyes fall distracted and with one sudden movement, she used her left hand to quickly scoop it up and place it in the box.

_Oh yes!_

She grabbed the box, ran inside and into the lab, where she could get a good look at it.

After twenty minutes, a lack of co-operation and a foul temper, she decided to name the bird Vegeta; for obvious reasons. Judging by the severity of the fracture, she guessed he had been involved in some sort of fight, due to territorial matters.

_Men…_

"Look what you've done, you stupid bird." She sighed as she scrutinized the stubborn creature.

The bird followed her every move, its tiny pupils dilating as the anger bubbled inside it. Bulma shook her head, leaving the bird sitting in the shoe box on the medical table, and she grabbed a small plastic container full of medical equipment.

She revealed a string of bandages, a pair of scissors and went to the far cupboard to reveal a tiny wooden split.

"Now I'm just gunna fix you up, so you can take to the skies again, ok?" she smirked.

There was something about this bird that was loveable and Bulma wanted to care for it, she was happy that something needed her; despite the fact that her hands were covered in cuts and grazes from it, him. Vegeta.

* * *

><p>The meaty juices dribbled down his bottom lip, on to his chin and dripped on to the table with a continuous 'patting' sound. Vegeta had torn his way through an entire honey roasted gammon joint and now he was chewing through a whole cooked chicken; all prepared by Bunny of course.<p>

The GR had over heated and the control panel was displaying signs of near combustion, as Vegeta attempted to push the gravitron limit past its capacity, again. He had already been in to tell the woman that she must fix it immediately, but she was far too preoccupied treating a wounded rat-like creature. There was no reason why she should put herself out for such a useless and pathetic thing, but she had been in that lab for hours now and Vegeta was beginning to grow a bit jealous.

No, not jealous, just anxious that his training had to be put on hold _again_, due to a mix up between priorities; _he_ comes first, always.

Maybe he _was jealous _of the creature. It was receiving all her attention and the most interaction he had gotten today was and simple response of 'no, I'll do it later.' Granted, he should have destroyed her, but he'd come to terms with the fact that he would never do that, not to her anyway. She was becoming something else, he was slowly growing fond of her and he had put to rest his dispute over training time and distractions.

There would be no doubt that he'd reach the level of super Saiyan eventually; he felt himself getting closer to it every day, so he didn't worry too much about that. As long as he trained for at least twelve hours each day, then he'd be on track. He had plans for this woman and she would just have to slot nicely in _between_training sessions.

Moments later, Bulma strode in to the kitchen, noticing Vegeta but refused to acknowledge him. She hadn't any patience for his antagonism, not now. Usually she would relish the attention he gave her, but there were more pressing matters at hand. She made her way across to the cupboards, swung them open with prowess and delved through them, throwing tubs and plastic cups behind her.

"Aha…" She murmured.

She stood up and revealed a tiny circular dish and proceeded to fill it up with water from the tap, as well as grabbing a loaf of bread from the counter. Vegeta couldn't resist the urge to pester her, this was beyond ridiculous. It was an animal, not a child, yet she was molly coddling it beyond belief; again, Vegeta was losing even more respect for the human race.

Bulma bundled the bread up and under her arm and attempted to stalk out and back into the lab.

"Are you still nursing that insignificant life form?" he questioned, catching her off guard and causing her to halt abruptly.

Bulma smirked and swivelled round elegantly, and formed a rather sinister grin across her face. She had yet to change out of her pyjamas and she was conscious of smelling bad, especially round Vegeta; he would never let her live it down.

"Hm? You mean 'mini Vegeta'?" She chuckled.

She had played around with 'Vegeta junior' but she didn't want him to think she had some sort of obsession with him, so much which she was pretending to nurse a child. Granted, the situation was similar, but Bulma saw a huge difference between junior and mini, nevertheless, Vegeta responded indignantly.

"What?" he barked, while scrutinizing the woman in front of him.

"'Mini Vegeta'" she repeated sternly.

He responded with a low rumble in his chest, almost like that of a dog.

_That scrawny creature has been named after me?_

"And yes, he's poorly and needs help." She stated proudly, while flicking her hair out of her face.

"Idiot." He said, before placing the remaining skeleton of the chicken on the plate in front of him and standing up.

"Excuse me?" Bulma spat.

_Why has every conversation we have, result in me being called an idiot?_

Vegeta stalked towards Bulma, leaving a small gap between them, and causing Bulma to feel slightly anxious. Why he had to stand so close was beyond reasoning to her, especially when she couldn't defend herself, and without dropping everything.

Vegeta exhaled heavily, trying to ignore her arousal, but he'd tried many times before and it was no use. He had a score to settle with this woman and he hadn't come into much contact with her recently, so he hadn't had the chance. Maybe now was the right time.

Bulma swallowed a dry lump in her throat and composed herself. "Well?"

He smirked and watched her squirm in front of him.

"He lost."

"Lost?" she responded.

She could guess he was referring to the bird and the fight it had been involved in, but it didn't _lose _and she was very curious as to what he was getting at.

"The dominance over his territory." He said, while rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

"So?" Bulma replied, while glancing over Vegetas glistening torso and then back up to his smug face again.

_Busted…_

"He's not entitled to live…its survival of the fittest." He stated, as he invaded the last bit of space she had to breathe.

She involuntarily stepped back and looked curiously into the eyes of the dark Saiyan, knowing full well how she was going to respond.

"No one deserves to die, Vegeta…You should know better…" She blinked a few times.

Vegeta bit his tongue and stepped away from her. She was right in a sense. No living creature _deserved_ to die, but some creatures didn't deserve to _live, _him being one of them.

"Psh." He crossed his arms and displayed an intense frown. "You have more important things to do."

Bulma squinted at him, trying to read what was going on in his peculiar brain.

"Well, whatever it is. And I can guess. It can wait a couple of hours, ok?" She wasn't waiting for a response, as there was no room for objections. She had already wasted enough time standing around.

Vegeta reacted almost like that of a small child. Bulma could have sworn she saw him stamp his foot in protest.

"No. It will _not _wait! I've waited long enough."

Bulma mused upon the _hidden _subject he was yelling about, but quickly dismissed it.

"Listen. You can whine all you want, but I'm not giving in. No way. I will fix the GR later and if you wait _patiently_, I might upgrade it by a few gravitrons." She winked.

_That could work. _He thought thoroughly.

Her bargaining skills weren't too bad.

Vegeta uncrossed his arms while looking in to her pretty eyes, just to make sure she wasn't bluffing and after a few intense seconds he concluded that she looked sincere enough and he nodded affirmatively.

"Whatever. Get on with it." He stated, before spinning round and sauntering off in to the sitting room.

A huge grin appeared on Bulmas face, as she watched Vegeta walk away from her. It was becoming easier to persuade him, even though he was stubborn, he would almost always succumb eventually. Bulma felt like she was the only person who could make him act in such a manner and that made her feel important, maybe important to him as well. Her feelings for him were still very present, but he didn't know and she had no intention of telling him. Yes, she had slipped up a couple of times, but she was prepared to do things right and find out whether or not he felt similar. Obviously he wouldn't feel to the same extend, or would he? He wouldn't _show_ feelings to that degree anyway, but she could tell something was changing within Vegeta and maybe it all boiled down to her influence.

After an hour and a half of documentaries galore, Vegeta was beginning to grow impatient. He had flicked through a few bearable channels, but the majority of the documentary channels were showing either 'Animal 999' or 'Pony Sanctuary 2' and he couldn't deal with the additional head trauma. A very large part of Vegeta wanted to storm in there and put that damn thing out of its' misery, but she would give him hell if he a simply entered the room and she _could_ be quite intimidating; sometimes.

Currently playing, was a documentary about carnivores and herbivores during the Jurassic time period. It was partially interesting, but if he wanted to see an actual dinosaur, he could just fly a few hundred miles away to find one. So without hesitation he grabbed the remote and switched the power off, leaving him sitting in absolute silence. Well, not perfect silence. His eye twitched in irritation as he could hear a dull, rumbling sound, to which only his sensitive hearing would be able to pick up. He spun around the room, trying to indicate from which direction the sound was coming from, but he couldn't pin point it.

He frowned furiously and got to his feet, before stalking out into the kitchen and glancing round curiously.

_Upstairs…_

Within a split second, he sprinted up the stairs and flashed his teeth as the sound became clearer. To his utter horror, the sound was coming from the woman's room and he anxiously wavered between going in and running away; but the noise was so damn irritating. He quickly sensed her ki, which was still moving round in the lab, so without further ado he casually stepped in and sniffed the air. Yes, her smell was very concentrated in her room and he forced back a shudder of ecstasy by closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. As he did so, he cleared his mind, and he noticed that the noise was focused under her bed. He quickly dropped to the floor, like a predator, and rummaged under the bed, before coming across a particular plastic bag.

As he returned to his feet, with the black bag in hand, he delved deep to the bottom and revealed a strange cylinder device, with a circular object attached to it. It was pink, so he was instantly horrified, but he held it neatly in his palm and felt it vibrating viciously. He rolled it around in his palm, trying to find out how to turn the thing off, but after a few seconds of flapping around and panicking, he decided to save himself the stress and crush the thing into tiny pieces.

He lifted the shiny bag up to his face and squinted at the label, which read 'The secret drawer'.

Curiosity caught him and he decided to route through the entire contents, pulling out a garment which was laced with sweet smelling beads, which proved to be delicious and after he finished with it, he thoughtlessly chucked it across the room. He sat down comfortably on her bed and continued to delve deeper into the bag. He found a tub full of a jelly substance which tasted like cherry and it tingled the tip of his tongue. There were a few objects in there which he found repulsive and yet slightly entrancing, but he also wondered as to why the woman owned such bizarre items.

He felt the blood rush to his face and groin, when he lifted up a pair of black, lacy panties with a convenient hole in the centre. He held them at arm's length, unaware of how to react to an object as such and at that moment he heard something thud to the floor beside him, causing him to jerk forward and drop the lacy garment.

Bulma had only gone upstairs for a much needed shower and she certainly didn't expect Vegeta to be waiting on her bed for her. She misinterpreted his reason for being there and her eyes widened in shock when she caught a glimpse of the bag, and the contents strewn across her bed.

Regardless of his obvious intrusion, Vegeta remained sat on her bed, watching her with an arched eyebrow.

"Should I even ask?" she said calmly, trying to supress her rage and embarrassment.

Vegeta stretched across the bed and picked up an object which replicated the vibrating thing he had destroyed earlier.

"Woman. What is this?" he asked curiously, while dangling the pink trinket in the air.

Bulma grimaced and strode across the room.

"Ew. Vegeta. Put that down!" she screamed as she tried to grab the toy from his grasp.

He pulled it away from her, realising it was something which caused her a significant amount of humiliation. A smirk quickly made it way upon Vegetas face, as he watched the desperation in her eyes.

"Is this one of your shit inventions?" he spat.

Bulma ignored that remark and took a step back, so that her visual stabbing was obvious to Vegeta.

"What are you doing routing through my stuff? Get out!" she ordered as she pointed towards the doorway.

To his great satisfaction, he found a little button which activated the vibrations on the object and he delicately placed in on the bed, watching it rumble and slowly spin in circles.

"You haven't answered my question." He uttered, his eyes still focused on the object. "What is this contraption?"

Bulma sighed. She guessed that if she answered, he might go away; the situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

"It's a love egg." She flinched involuntarily.

Vegeta glared at the 'love egg', then back at Bulma, unsure of what her answer meant. The word 'love' provoked an uncertainty and a wave of sickness flew over his entire being, but he wasn't completely satisfied with her answer and wanted her to elaborate.

"What?" He questioned again.

Bulma walked over to the bed, grabbed the toy and lashed it back into the bag, as well as the rest of the mess Vegeta created.

"It's a sex toy." She sighed, "and it's not mine." She lied.

Vegeta grimaced and slowly but thoroughly wiped his hands on his shorts. He felt disgusted.

_Why does she possess a 'sex toy'? Is she 'that' desperate?_

The thought provoked a sly smirk and he glanced over at Bulma, noticing the blush she managed to maintain for a good five minutes.

She glanced at him, quite wary of the sinister look on his face, and she arched an eyebrow.

"What?" she spat. "My mom bought all these weird things…I just threw them under my bed. I obviously don't intend on using any of them!" she trailed off into a nervous chuckle.

Unconvinced, Vegeta pressed the matter further because frankly, he was gaining a substantial amount of pleasure, watching her squirm in humiliation.

"Why didn't you destroy them then?" he spoke clearly.

_Good question._

She paused and stood up straight, taken aback by his inquisitions. Why _did _she still have them? The real reason was because she didn't know what else to do with them, but he wouldn't buy that.

"I dunno." She shrugged.

The room fell silent and his eyes roamed across her half naked body, picturing her in the lacy panties and nothing more. He began to feel warm and an obvious reaction, in his shorts, occurred, causing him to panic and fidget around.

Bulma instantly caught on to his peculiar behaviour and she'd had enough.

"I need to get a shower…Now please, go find somewhere else to mess up." She said with a sigh, before turning round and entering her en suite.

Relief flew over him and he immediately removed himself from her room; it was too much, but he did find a few interesting items in there, maybe he'd return one day in the near future.

As the sumptuous water washed over Bulmas body, she began to feel quite irritated with herself. If it was anyone else, she would have destroyed their ear drums, but there was something innocent about Vegeta and he seemed genuinely curious. Yes, she could smell a potent cherry aroma floating around the room, so she guessed he'd been messing around with the tub of lube gel her mom had lovingly bought her. He was like a child, in a way and so similar to 'mini Vegeta', who in fact, had become Bulmas new buddy.

She had nursed him for the entire day and it was obvious the little guy was becoming fond of her. So much that he'd stopped hissing at her and he only bit her if she looked at him, so things were looking up in their little relationship. He looked cute, all bandaged up and unable to move properly and he seemed grateful for the food and water she had given him. Ok, maybe he wasn't _too _similar to Vegeta because if he could speak, she was almost certain he would at least say thank you. In fact, she was positive he would.

She only intended on leaving him for a couple of minutes while she washed up and changed. So she rushed her shower and returned to the lab, to find him right where she left him.

The lack of training became too much for Vegeta and he took to the skies, with the plan of training elsewhere. An urge to inflict pain was becoming far too tempting, so he had to leave, for a few hours anyway. When he landed back on the lawn, it was still day light and the sun was looming over the house; a thick orange glow, hovering over him. He stood still for a moment, his chin up and eyes closed, embracing the warmth, but his peace was quickly disturbed by a loud cackling sound reverberating throughout the entire house.

_She's still wasting her time on that bird?_

As he strode in to the hallway, he was almost pleasantly surprised to see Bulma away from the lab, although she was participating in one of her 'phone calls'; which would probably constitute as something far worse.

"Yeah, of course he can!" she exclaimed, while coiling a lock of hair around her finger.

Vegeta grew curious and stood directly in front of her face, but she simply rolled her eyes and turned around.

"Uh-huh…Tell them they can start tomorrow if they like….OK, bye."

She placed the phone down and sighed, before turning round, her nose becoming squashed against Vegetas.

"Who were you talking to?" He said sternly.

She took a much needed step back and watched him carefully. There was no doubt, he wasn't going to like the news and he would definitely kick up a fuss; again, like a child.

"None of your business." She stated and whirled around.

She grinned as she sauntered down the hallway; Vegetas footsteps not far behind her.

"Who can start tomorrow?" he asked with a slight pang of irritation in his voice.

Bulma spun around, placed her hands on her hips and looked at the Saiyan , who was standing a few feet away from her.

"No one…" she grinned.

"Woman?" He frowned.

"…Goku and Gohan." She mumbled, uncertain of which form of action to take.

"What?"

He had certainly heard.

"GOKU and GOHAN!" she shouted, still staring into his face.

_Jeez. He really needs to get over this..._

"Kakarot?" His eyes widened and his nostrils flared.

"YES!"

"No chance." He stated firmly but calmly, while crossing his arms and looking away from her.

"Tough." She imitated his actions.

They _both_ resembled stubborn children, until Vegeta broke the prolonged silence.

"What's his business?"

He almost sounded as if he had accepted the information, causing Bulma feel uneasy and wary of what his intentions were.

She sighed.

"Chichi has had enough and wants a break. So he's gunna visit here once or twice a week…To train." She looked at Vegeta from beneath her eyelashes.

"And before you throw yet another tantrum, no, he won't be invading your precious GR. He'll be using a ship. A replica to the one he used on Namek." She stood proudly and threw her shoulders back.

He mused over the idea.

It wouldn't be so troublesome that Kakarot and his brat visited once or twice a week. Vegeta smirked maliciously in the knowledge that the space capsules could only withstand a maximum of 400G at the most. Compared to his GR, they may as well train under the earth's gravitational pull and surely they would soon falter, leaving him to become the most powerful Saiyan. Plus, they would be useful to spar with, especially Kakarot, his child would just have to watch his father get pulverised.

"Very well then… I could do with a new punching bag." His grin quickly turned into a frown. "Now fix the GR."

Bulma was impressed with the way he was handling the situation and to Vegetas standards of behaviour, this was beyond impressive, but Bulma had let the GR slip from her priorities.

Now she had to face the flames.

"Urgh. I haven't had the chance…" She placed a warm palm to her face.

The venture outdoors had inevitably calmed him down, but it didn't take much to stir his anger and he began to feel it bubbling once again.

"It's that blasted bird isn't it?" He said, balling his fists tightly.

"Awh. Leave 'mini Vegeta' out of it. Besides, he's sleeping, so stop yelling." She whispered the last part, while shooting him a look of pure hate.

There was no more room for patience and Vegeta itched upon his next move. He knew what he was going to do, but he also knew she would give him absolute hell for it, so he quickly barged past her and stormed into the lab.

"No. I've had all I can stand of it."

If it meant, him getting his GR back again, he had no choice. She had to realise that he came first no matter what, not a stupid, scrawny rat.

Bulma charged after him, terrified and tried to refrain from acknowledging his near future actions. She would never speak to him again and the respect which was growing would instantly vanish. Plus, he'd have to find somewhere else to train because there would be no way she'd ever do anything to appease him, ever.

"Vegeta! Stop!" she hollered after him, watching him swing the lab doors open with one huge lunge.

As she entered the lab, she found Vegeta standing with his arm aiming at the bird and his fingers spread apart. She panicked and rushed over to him, pulling and tugging his free arm, but he refused to budge, so she resulted in biting his forearm; yet he still didn't flinch, let alone move.

"What are you doing?" she continued to pull on his arm, using her full strength.

One quick, blinding flash engulfed the room.

Bulma winced and watched the room adjust to its original light; she still held tightly onto Vegetas arm, which she was now doing out of fear.

To Bulmas surprise, the bird was still there, sleeping in the little cage she had made. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and let go of Vegetas arm; startled by the events.

"What did you do?" she sniffled slightly.

He turned to face her.

"Hmph." He shot a look at the bird. "It should heal quicker now. He'll be fine by the morning." He spoke in a monotone, before walking away from her and out the room.

"Vegeta?" she called after him.

_What did he do…?_

She immediately ran over to the bird and checked him thoroughly, not that she doubted Vegetas words.

But why?

He didn't regret his actions, but he didn't want her to fuss about it and call him a hero or saviour. He had merely transferred some of his energy over to the bird, in the hope that it would heal quicker. No, he didn't have the power to heal, but he heard that Kakarot had used something similar when he idiotically showed sympathy towards a dying Frieza. Granted, that was the first time Vegeta had practiced it, but the birds ki already began to rise and he seemed pretty confident about the outcome. He never doubted his talent and strength and he knew he would soon become a super Saiyan.

He had clear motives for treating that bird, meaning now the woman would have more time to fix the GR.

There _was_ no other reason behind it, was there?


	14. Bon Appetit

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter Fourteen  
><span>Bon Appetit<span>

* * *

><p>"Kakarot, get out here now, before I blast you out!" He tapped his foot impatiently. "And bring the brat as well, you could both learn a valuable lesson."<p>

"Wait a sec…sheesh." A voice called from inside the house.

Goku and Gohan had been visiting regularly for the past two weeks; training and eating everything that they could get their hands on, and usually Vegeta wouldn't stand for it but he was gaining some benefit from the other Saiyans, mainly for sparring but they were also distracting his mind from _her._He had come to terms with his desire for her, he had no problem with anything physical, but there was something more and undetectable and he wasn't prepared to dwell on the lingering thoughts.

As he stood on the lawn, arms folded across his chest and a hard scowl, he couldn't ignore the little creature perched on the fence beside him. He shot a glance at it, noticing an adoring look in its tiny yellow eyes, and listened to the repetitive chirping it was making. Ever since he had given it a microscopic fraction of his energy, the damn thing had been following him around, endlessly sitting on branches and fences nearby and causing him to feel edgy. He had never been stalked before, he half wished the woman would show the same persistence, but the fact that it was an animal and a _male _animal, was making him feel uneasy. It was a pest, but it didn't surprise him if the thing admired him, but by sharing his energy he had created a bond. Not a bond on his side, but it was clear that the bird was more than happy to follow him around all day.

He took another look at the black bird and grunted in an attempt to frighten it off, but the proud creature hopped along the fence and continued to chirp. Vegeta uncrossed his arms and waved his hand back and forth; his eyes not leaving the birds.

"Go away." He growled, while shooing casually.

If anyone knew about it, his pride would take yet another blow and he didn't know if he could take any more hits.

"Looks like someone has made a new friend." A sarcastic voice uttered from behind him.

Bulma had arrived home early from working in the lab and took a detour to the grocery store on the way home. She had a plan to lure Vegeta towards her, whether it would be a success would depend on her cooking skills and thankfully she had watched her mother several times during the years, so she guessed it couldn't be too hard.

He swung around to face her, looking at the two large shopping bags in her hands. The fraction of a second with which their eyes met was more than enough for Bulma to receive to right signs, but she vowed to play it cool, so she deterred her gaze and focused upon 'mini Vegeta'.

"What are you doing here?" Vegeta questioned, while scrutinizing her every movement.

Bulma made her way to the fence, towards the bird, dropping her shopping bags and placing an inviting hand out in front of her. To Vegetas delight, the bird scowled and hissed at her, which sent her a few steps back and provoked the attitude which he had become, somewhat, fond of.

"Hey!" She barked. "So, that's the thanks I get?"

A low rumble of a chuckle escaped Vegetas lips, causing him to jerk and turn away from her.

Irritated would be an understatement and Bulma bit her tongue for a moment, forcing back the foul language she wanted to scream and instead she tried to piece together the situation. The bird she had nursed for hours on end, had somehow taken to Vegeta, which could only be because of what he had done, but why it was so influenced by his self-righteous attitude was a mystery; it _was _a bird.

"Oh…I see what's happening here…fine, I don't care." She said as she flicked her hair, picked up her shopping bags and swept into the direction of the front door; colliding with Goku in the process.

"Ffeyy Bulmvva!" He said in a muffled voice, while holding on to her shoulders as she regained her balance.

He had, what looked like, a foot long baguette sticking out of his mouth, which her mother must have prepared earlier.

"Do you Saiyans ever stop eating?"

She unusually forgot to regard Gokus stupidity, but he always managed to remind her.

"Om coarse ee goo." He threw back the baguette, chewed for a moment and gulped. "Of course we do." He repeated, with a polite smile.

Bulma shook her head in disbelief at Goku; he was adorable and still so innocent, he would always continue to make her smile.

He generously took her shopping bags from her and walked in to the kitchen to place them on the work surface. Bulma smiled and followed behind him, watching the bounce in his step, which she was so pleased to see. She hadn't been accustom to such chivalrous behaviour and certainly didn't expect to see Vegeta replicate anything of the sort any time soon; never was a more likely possibility.

"So how are you finding your training?" She asked, staring at the back of the larger Saiyan.

"Couldn't ask for better!"

He spun around and grinned massively, waiting for Bulma to excuse him.

"Good. Well, if you need me-"

She was cut off by a loud grunt, coming from directly behind her. She didn't have to think twice about who created the intrusive sound.

"Stop blabbering and get over here, Kakarot. You're wasting time, clown!"

Bulma spun around, feeling the fury burning in her chest. He always had to interrupt her, even after finding some sort of common ground, he always retreated to his inconsiderate and self-centred attitude, with no regards for others at all.

"Vegeta!"

She shot a daring glare at him, sighed and turned towards Goku again.

"As I was saying. If you need me, I'll be in the sitting room, with a box of chocolates and a large glass of wine…" she said nonchalantly, disregarding the furious Saiyan behind her.

Gokus eyes widened at the behaviour between the two, he could see the similarities already and it was crazy that he had never noticed it until now. They were both fighting a power battle; Bulma was a strong female who wouldn't stand for any disrespect and Vegeta was a proud warrior who wanted more or less the same thing. Goku watched as they both stood there, reflecting the exact same pose, arms crossed and chin high.

"Haha…ok" Was all Goku could think to say as he headed outside.

"Hhnn." Vegeta grunted as he took a final glare at the back of Bulmas head, before spinning round and stomping after Goku.

The room soon fell silent and Bulma sighed in relief, but just as she went to park her tired body down, Gohan appeared, with palpable gloom looming over him. The kid was getting bigger every time he visited and Bulma was beginning to realise that she was getting older, not old, but older.

She placed her elbows on the work surface behind her, leaning casually, and watched him as he strolled across the kitchen and towards her.

"Hey kid. You not going out there to _play _too?"

He looked up at her with his puppy like eyes.

"Nah. I thought I'd leave my dad and Vegeta to fight…I'd only get in the way." He spoke quietly and glanced down at his feet.

There was no way that Gohan was thinking like this. Bulma leaned across to the fruit bowl and grabbed an apple.

"Gohan…I've seen you fight. Why would you say something like that?"

The memory of Vegeta battering Gohan to a pulp flashed in to her mind, causing her to frown and roll her eyes. It was only a year ago, yet she was seeing Vegeta in a different light, she couldn't imagine him doing something like that now; but the truth was, he probably would, she knew there was very little progress when it came to his sadistic behaviour, which ultimately left her questioning her own mental health. Why does she have feelings for this person again?

"Oh uh…Look." She placed the untouched apple back in the fruit bowl and walked towards Gohan, whose eyes were still glued to the floor. "Vegeta is all hard and cold on the outside, but I know he's just putting up a front. Don't worry about him, kid. He's just depraved."

She laughed at the last part of the sentence, but hoped to God that Gohan didn't interpret her crude way of thinking, but he was a clever kid and the blush which glowed on his cheeks proved her calculations to be correct.

He snapped his head up and pulled a small but sincere smile.

"Hmmm…ok. Thanks Bulma."

"Don't sweat it."

He scarpered out the kitchen and Bulma felt quite satisfied with the way she handled his little dilemma. It was a serious matter and under human circumstances, any grown man pulverising a young boy was completely unforgiveable, but Gohan was a strong kid and she had high hopes for him; he _was_ Gokus son.

* * *

><p>Aladdin was always a winner when it came to Disney films and Bulma was singing along merrily to 'Prince Ali', and occasionally nibbling on a 400g bar of chocolate. She was completely relaxed, despite the racket going on from outside. She heard a few smashes and cracks but refused to look out the window, it wasn't her problem and Vegeta would have to take full responsibility, but she knew her mother would always wind up cleaning after him.<p>

She swayed from left to right, clicking her fingers and humming along, her moment of pure glee flowing freely into the afternoon.

"Hey Bulma. Look who's here."

Goku was standing in the arch of the door, covered in cuts and bruises, with Yamcha standing beside him, a dumb look on his face.

Bulma froze and stared at the two men, waiting for the shock to set in. She had been avoiding Yamchas calls and visits for weeks now and she hadn't intended on speaking to him today of all days, not while she was watching Aladdin anyway. A sudden thud of depression hit Bulma in the head and she regained her focus, noticing the uncertainty between the two men.

"Hm? Yamcha!" she said falsely, gesturing him over.

She didn't want to see him at all, she never did and she was furious that Goku would just invite him in to her home, but she couldn't blame him, how was he to know?

"Hey come and sit down. I'll just go and get you a drink!"

She shot up and trudged into the kitchen, hooking Goku and reeling him in with her.

"Why did you let him in?" she whispered, "I don't want to see him."

Goku stared at her with wide eyes, trying to judge the truth in her tone.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know." He pleaded, while scratching the back of his head.

"Well, you should ask me before you go on inviting people into my home."

"But it's Yamcha…"

"Yeah I know." She sighed, "Urgh…Never mind. You'll just have to hang around for a while longer, in case it gets nasty." She said sternly, while pointing a threatening finger at Gokus chest.

"Ok. I guess."

She walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a glass and handed it to Goku.

"Here, hold this." She almost shoved the glass into his chest.

"Why don't you both get a room a just get it over with." A gruff voice chuckled from the other side of the room, causing the pair to look over simultaneously.

Vegeta, similar to Goku, was covered in cuts and bruises, but he hadn't fought Kakarot, he was saving that for another day. It was the brat which inflicted these wounds and he sure as hell had gotten a lot stronger since the last time they fought; still nothing in comparison.

He hadn't expected to walk in on the woman and Kakarot acting all suspicious together. He felt something peculiar within him, provoking him to intervene and deter any further advancement between the two. Kakarot had a mate, but Bulma was something different and it wouldn't surprise Vegeta if he took a chance and tried to lure her in to his jolly circus.

Bulma rolled her eyes and walked over to the fridge, clawing her way through the contents and placing different beverages on the work surface.

Vegeta shot a quick glance at the sitting room, witnessing the scar faced buffoon sitting idly and staring at the screen in front of him.

"What's he doing here?" He said, sniffing the air and grimacing.

Bulma spun around and stormed over to Vegeta.

"Shhh…Could you quieten your voice. He's only in the next room." She whispered under strained voice.

"So what. He's an idiot." He said, just as loud as before.

Bulma glared at him, standing inches away from his face, and watched as his eyes wondered over to Goku.

"And what are _you_ still doing here? Don't you have to appease that harpy of yours?"

He glowered at Goku, mainly because he hated him and wanted to obliterate him, but also because he was receiving more of the woman's attention than he was.

"Hm. I _should _go home. Chichi can get pretty angry." He threw a sorrowful look at Bulma.

She wasn't buying it and she was sick of these 'so called' warriors acting so pathetic and needy all the time.

"Don't worry." She said reassuringly, "I told Gohan to tell her you were staying a while longer anyway." She grinned.

"You did?" he said, dumbfounded.

"Well, Gohan needed to go home and study and I guessed you were still busy training, so I told him to let Chichi know."

"Oh, well, I guess that's ok. Although she'll be mad that I let Gohan make his own way home." He said shyly, trying to worm his way around the situation.

"Are you kidding?" she scoffed, "That kid flew the entire length and breadth of planet Namek!"

"Yeah, he did." Goku said proudly, followed by a small chuckle.

Vegeta frowned severely, astonished that they were wasting their time with such trivial chatter and yet again, Kakarot was creeping his way into her affections. He wouldn't stand for it. They were carrying on like he wasn't in the room at all; he was a Prince for God's sake!

With that, he shoulder barged into Bulma, knocking her a few paces back, causing her to yell out in protest.

"Who do you think you're _pushing?_"

She attempted to shove him with the flat of her hand, but unsurprisingly failed to move him an inch.

He stared at the hand which touched his bare shoulder, then back at Bulma.

"Don't touch me." He stated calmly.

"I'll touch you if I want to." She chided.

"I know you _want _to, but I'm telling you not to." He grinned, flashing his teeth.

Goku attempted to cover his laughter. Their relationship was slowly, yet surely, blooming in a 'Bulma and Vegeta' kind of way and it was easy to see that things were flowing accordingly.

"I'll go and sit with Yamcha." Goku murmured and stalked off in to the sitting room.

Bulma watched as Vegeta began to dig through the fridge, before pulling out a large trifle and looking at it with hungry eyes.

"Don't eat that. It's for _after _dinner!"

She attempted to steal it from his conniving, evil hands, but he quickly pulled it away from her and dipped his bare hand into it, slowly.

She grimaced slightly, unsure with Vegetas current behaviour. Was this an attempt of being seductive or was he just acting like a dick? She decided to go with the latter.

"Urgh."

He removed his hand and briskly shook off the cream, before placing the bowl on the work surface.

"You didn't answer my question. What is that imbecile doing here?"

_That was weird…_She thought to herself as she stared at the destroyed dessert.

There was a slight pang of jealously in Vegetas words, which sent a shiver down Bulmas spine. He actually wanted her affections, or it seemed that way.

"I don't know. I guess he's here to see me." She sighed.

"Hnh."

He was relatively satisfied with her lack of enthusiasm and decided to give the situation a lack of concern.

"Why, you jealous?" she teased and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Ha!"

Maybe she was right. Maybe jealously was the strange sensation he was feeling, but he couldn't dwell upon such an inconvenient emotion, he was already wasting his time trying to deter her from Kakarot, much to his displeasure. But he did it and he was still waiting for her to ask them _both_ to leave, yet she didn't.

Bulma simply winked at him, knowing it would unnerve his little Saiyan self and she spun around, back to the fridge.

"My parents are out on yet another expedition, so I'll be cooking tonight."

"Oh great." He retorted, displeased by the turn of events.

"Hmph. Say what you like, but once I whip up this fine cuisine, you'll be begging me for more…food that is."

She bent down to the bottom of the fridge, giving Vegeta an eyeful, causing him to gulp and place crude thoughts into his mind.

"Unlikely." He forced the words out, his eyes still fixated on her backside.

Unimpressed, Bulma stood up, slammed the fridge door shut, shot a vicious look at Vegeta and stormed past him and into the sitting room.

Vegeta exhaled in relief and watched as she sat down next to the clown and the weakling. There was no point in becoming angry over such an insignificant and wanton creature, but he was kidding himself now and had accepted that she was more than _just _a human. Yet he was still battling his conscience, screaming at himself to stop and focus on what is more important, but he was beginning to think of her _first_, then he would think of his training. He was still convinced it was a physical attraction, but a small part of him knew otherwise.

As the afternoon slowly grew into the evening, Bulma, Goku and Yamcha had been sharing stories for hours and it was almost unbelievable that there was ever any tension between the two. Bulma knew otherwise and with Goku present, she was only postponing the inevitable.

She eyed Goku and subtly nodded her head and to her surprise, he received the message and stood up abruptly.

"I better get going. Chichi 'll kill me" He giggled.

"Oh ok…" Bulma said, trying to sound convincing, before standing up and embracing him.

"See ya guys!" He hollered, placing two fingers to his forehead and disappearing.

The room fell silent and Bulma sighed before sitting back down next to Yamcha.

"Boy, wish I could do that instant transmission thing." He said nervously.

"I'm guessing you didn't come here to share stories and sing along to Disney films." She cut him short.

"No."

"Well, go on." She sighed again, putting a palm to her forehead, disregarding any of Yamchas emotions.

Offended, Yamcha sat straight at frowned.

"I didn't come here to annoy you either. I just came to drop off some things you'd left at my place."

He produced a large sports bag from behind the sofa and placed it on Bulmas lap. She jerked slightly and her eyes widened at the weight which was now resting on top of her.

"My things?" She said as she slowly unzipped the bag.

It was over loaded with shoes, clothes, deodorants and bits of make-up.

"I'm tired of behaving like this. I've accepted it now." He said confidently.

Bulma tore her eyes away from the bursting sports bag and they met Yamchas.

He continued, "I wanna be the way we were. Minus the romantic side." He smiled.

There was barely any romance in the relationship to begin with. They were young and didn't have a clue what they were doing, they didn't realise how much their changing circumstances would inflict upon their relationship, yet it did and fate had made them this way. Bulma was irritated. Why it had taken Yamcha months to come to this obvious conclusion was beyond a joke, but at least he was seeing things her way; which was for the best.

"Yeah. That's what I've been trying to do." She replied calmly.

At the top of the staircase, stood Vegeta, listening clearly to their conversation and not being completely aware of why he was doing such a 'human' thing.

"I know. I feel like an idiot, it's kind of embarrassing." Yamcha continued with a blush.

A weight dropped off Bulmas shoulders and she felt relieved that he was there. It was like a door had been unlocked and she was free to walk through it, that was the only way she could see it.

"Don't worry about it. I'm happy you're talking to me about it. It's been strange, but I know we're better off as friends. Trust me." She laughed.

"Yeah."

His smile quickly faded in to a look of concern and he took Bulmas hand into his, which she happily allowed him to do.

"Just promise me you won't do anything stupid." He pleaded.

Bulma arched an eyebrow and stared at him. What does he mean, 'don't do anything stupid'? If it's in regards to future boyfriends, then that is none of his concern, surely?

"What do you mean?" she pulled her hand away.

"Nothing. Just be careful."

Was Yamcha giving her some sort of feeble sex talk?

"I'm not a kid, Yamcha." She scoffed.

"Yeah, I know, but…"

"Hm?" She cut him short; he really needed to get to the point.

He snapped his head up and glared into her eyes.

"Just watch it with Vegeta, ok?" he snapped.

"Vegeta?" She laughed aloud.

Half laughing in fear that Yamcha may have sussed out her crush on the alien killer and half in disbelief, that he would have the audacity to tell her who she can and can't become involved with.

"You have nothing to _worry _about." She continued to laugh.

"Hmmm…" He uttered, not entirely convinced.

Yamcha understood that the two were living together in a platonic environment and Bulma had assured him that she hated the guy, but there was a fine line between love and hate. Besides, they were too similar and it was creepy.

"Seriously?" She barked, "The guy is impossible and has no time for anyone but himself, believe me!"

Yamcha was concerned about the meaning behind the latter part of that sentence. Had she _tried_ to gain some of his time?

"He's just a creep, that's all."

"He's not a creep. He's just a complicated guy." She sighed.

"That's for sure." Yamcha scoffed.

Bulma feared that if they spoke about Vegeta any longer, Yamcha would grow suspicious. It was already looking that way, otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned Vegeta at all, but she was unsure why she was denying such a thing to begin with. Could she admit her true feelings?

"Right." She shot up out of her seat. "I better start dinner, I'm starving."

Yamcha imitated her actions.

"Well, I better go anyway."

"You sure you don't want to stay for food?" She offered sincerely.

"Nah, it's ok. I'll eat later."

"Awh. Ok…"

"See you later Bulma."

He quickly hugged her, walked past and out the house, leaving her completely astonished.

As she heard the front door shut, she walked into the kitchen and stood in the centre; pondering about the events which had passed.

"Hm. Well, that was weird." She muttered to herself.

A loud grunt reverberated through the corridor and sounded from up the stairs.

Bulma jumped and stormed to the bottom of the stair case.

"Were you listening to the _entire _conversation?" she asked, furious.

Vegeta was appalled by her behaviour, throwing herself at the weakling and mocking _him_self in the process. This jealously thing was a real pain in the arse and he didn't have time for it. The best he could do for now, was to ignore her, so he stalked off towards his quarters.

Due to the lack of response, Bulma assumed Vegeta was having yet another hissy fit, so she shrugged and left him to his own devices; for now. Besides, she had this dinner to cook and for some bizarre reason, she was genuinely looking forward to preparing it.

She clawed the contents of the fridge again, revealing and packet of tuna steaks, a large packet of king prawns, some pre-made potato wedges and an array of salad.

She stood up and glanced at the items on the work surface, before clapping her hands together and nodding.

"Right. Time to cook."

* * *

><p>The grill was splattered with grease and the work surfaces were covered in stray lettuce leaves and bits of shell, left from the prawns. Bulma skilfully plated up hers and Vegetas dinner, giving him an extra helping of tuna steak of course, and she shuffled over to the bottom of the stairs to holler.<p>

"Vegeta!" she inhaled, "Dinner is ready!"

After a few seconds of utter silence, she concluded that he was either showering or had gone out, but she was too starved to care and she didn't spend over an hour creating such a treat for it to be left cold. She whipped up her plate and made her way into the living room. If Vegeta couldn't be bothered to get his dinner, then the flies can have it, she didn't care, as long as she had her own; although, her plan to beguile him with her cooking skills was well and truly thrown out the window.

Bulma belched as she placed her empty plate on the table and she relaxed back into the sofa, exposing her newly bulging stomach. Vegeta appeared at the arch of the doorway, the plate in his hand and deep frown on his face. His hair was dripping wet and he was sporting the loose boxer shorts again, causing Bulmas eyes to widen in admiration. He looked exceptionally attractive with wet hair, his facial features were more apparent and his hair glistened with moisture.

He wavered in the doorway, half tempted to eat in his room, but he was tired and couldn't see any satisfaction in eating alone anymore. So he sat down beside her, causing her to jump in her seat. He wasn't impressed with her behaviour when she was engaging in conversation with the weakling. Why did she laugh when he accused her of being involved with him? It irritated him, but he would have been even more so if she would have admitted about their encounters together. So why was he bothered?

The meal she had prepared, over half an hour ago, was now cold, but he dug into it regardless of its temperature.

"You like it?" she added, "See it as a thank you gesture." She smiled widely.

He tore into the cold meat, and glanced at her, noticing how alert she was.

"Hn." He swallowed, "For what?"

Why would she want to thank him?

The truth behind the matter was for helping restore the health of 'mini Vegeta'; as feeble as it sounded, but she didn't want to admit that and she knew he had no interest in her reasoning anyway.

"Nothing. I'm just gunna take that as a, 'Yeah, Bulma. You're the best cook in the galaxy!'"

"Shut up." He grumbled as he continued to chew on the tough meat.

"What's with the sour attitude?"

She was asking a ridiculous question.

"Do you ever stop talking?" He retorted.

"Do you ever show an ounce of gratitude? God, Vegeta, I'm getting pretty sick of your bouncing mood swings."

She turned away from him and watched the T.V screen, which was now showing 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'; provoking a horrified look from Vegeta.

It didn't take long for Bulmas gaze to return to Vegetas toned physique, his body flashing under the dimmed light and his hair slowly returning to its usual gravity defying stature.

He immediately felt her eyes boring in to him, causing him to smirk and catch her gaze.

"You're laughable." He uttered as he placed the empty dish on the table.

"H-wha?" she blinked to focus.

"You laugh at the idea of associating yourself with a prince. Yet here you are, once again, drooling over me." He said coolly, with a false look of displeasure.

A moment of guilt passed Bulma and she barely felt it, but she only laughed out of nervousness. Was it possible that Vegeta had been hurt by her attitude towards him? He shouldn't have been earwigging anyway.

"Ha, don't get ahead of yourself." She said elusively, while staring at the seven dwarfs dancing on screen.

"Oh, I won't. If anything, I'd be lowering my standards." He returned.

"Oh really?" she hit back, slightly hurt.

Her temper was flaring once again, which sent familiar feelings through his body, he found that side of her the most alluring, minus her body

"Yes, _really._"

"Bah. You're not the only one with pride ya know?"

She said before getting out of her chair and sauntering out of the room, leaving Vegeta with seven dwarfs, singing about, what seemed like, a simple journey to work and why they had to sing about it, he didn't know.

He guessed that Bulma was hiding something from him, but what, he couldn't determine. She was edgy and would usually put up a greater fight, her performance was futile and he felt quite wary of her alluding behaviour.

Maybe it was time to test the waters.

Bulma cleaned the spots of grease and food off her skin and jumped into her pyjamas, readying herself for the continuation of Disney films galore. As she made her way out on to the landing, she came across Vegeta, waiting patiently against the wall opposite her room. Startled, she gasped and her stomach flopped with excitement, in the knowledge that he was _waiting_ for her. Despite the palpable tension, she attempted to lift the mood.

"Did you enjoy it? The food?" she elaborated.

"It sufficed." He grunted.

"Again, I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."

The atmosphere was strangely awkward and she wanted to leave, but curiosity bit her and she did no more than take a few apprehensive steps away, towards the top of the stair case. Vegeta, wearing very little, gathered his sense and barricaded her way of escape, by advancing towards and in front of her.

"Shouldn't you be continuing your training or something?" She asked, trying to manoeuvre her way around him.

"No." he replied.

"Oh…" she said nervously.

There was something about these encounters which was becoming all too repetitive, but Bulma never ceased to display an unfamiliar nervousness around Vegeta when he was…acting up.

He pushed his chest into hers, pushing her back and eventually crushing her against the wall, so he could place his hands either side of her body. This tempting position was too proposing for Bulma and she knew what was coming, but she also knew that Vegeta wouldn't initiate anything entirely.

"So, we're doing this again, huh?" She tried to hide her enthusiasm under a sigh and a lack of eye contact.

"We're not doing anything." He stated, while devouring her body with his eyes.

He was tired of their actions being disrupted by either, bodily malfunctions or that idiotic cretin she calls her mother, and now proved the perfect opportunity to do what he had been longing for months now. Despite a slight dizziness, which he suspected was his own arousal; he was ready to take this woman where she stood. No Kakarot or weakling, or anyone, could disrupt them now. He had her complete and focused attention.

"Really?" she said in a whisper.

Bulma instantly closed the gap between them and caught his lips in a soft kiss, before he gradually returned it by gracing her lips with his tongue. He grabbed on to her hips and pressed her further on to the wall, their bodies completely trapped together and she locked her arms around his neck; despite her own being cranked in an uncomfortable angle.

Their tongues intertwined, his stroking her soft palate, making her tremble and sigh in to his mouth. Their actions seemed natural and Vegeta seemed just as keen as she was. Their physical contact wasn't the problem; it was post the activities, when Vegeta would return to his shell and become a recluse yet again. This stirred an uncertainty in Bulma; if she went all the way with him, how would he behave after such a commitment? In her eyes, sex was quite important and she didn't throw it around to anyone, in fact, Yamcha was the only person she had slept with. So it frightened her to think that Vegeta could just turn out to be one of many, another notch on the bed post. She knew what type of girl she was, but she was changing, she was chasing after a mass murderer, knowing that she could easily become hurt, but she was also very head strong herself and if Vegeta took one step out of line, she wouldn't let him live another day.

As their breathing and hands became frantic, Bulma took it up a notch, trying desperately to avoid the unbearable sensation she was feeling in her stomach. She placed her fingers delicately on the rim of his shorts, slowly easing her hands in and feeling the heat emanating from his groin.

Vegetas dizziness was overtaking his mind and his stomach began to lurch. He felt furious with his bodies reaction and hoped to God this was a natural response, but as he felt her finger tips stroke his sensitive, fully functional, organ, he shuddered and a wave of nausea flew over him.

He leapt back and placed one hand over his mouth, while keeling over and hitting the floor. His stomach lurched again, causing him to wretch and feel the sweat pouring down his face.

Bulma raced to his side and tried to grab his free hand, but he knocked it back aggressively. It was her fault he was like this.

"Are you ok?" she asked, panic sickened.

He shot up and pushed her out the way, running into his room and slamming the door shut. Bulma gasped and followed him, realising the cause to his sudden sickness.

_I've poisoned him!_

"Vegeta, are you alright?" she said, entering his room and thumping on the door of the en-suite.

She could hear a lot of wretching and vomiting and she desperately wanted to alleviate his suffering. _Now_, she felt guilt.

"Get out of here!" he wretched again, "You've done enough!"

"No, Ach."

"Is this your idea of a joke?" He questioned genuinely.

Bulma felt guilty, but she didn't intend of giving him food poisoning. Wouldn't she also have it if the food was cooked poorly?

"No…I cooked everything perfectly…Otherwise I'd be sick too."

She did make a valid point, but he was preoccupied with shaking and vomiting for eternity, to take anything she said as the truth. If she would have let him eat what her mother had prepared, he wouldn't be in this situation and he was frustrated by being torn away from their sexual activities, once again. It was becoming almost laughable, in an insane and deluded way.

His throat began to burn and the raw taste of sea food was provoking his stomach to lurch further. She couldn't see him like this.

"I don't want to hear anymore. Get out!" he ordered.

"Maybe if you'd come down when I called you, and not half an hour later, you wouldn't be like this now. It's your own fault." She huffed and crossed her arms.

The door cracked open, revealing Vegeta, hunched against the bath tub, his eyes blood shot and sweat pouring down his drained skin. Bulma took one look at him before rushing to the sink and pouring him a glass of water.

"Drink this." She pushed the glass in to his arm.

He didn't have enough energy to protest, so he grabbed the glass and gulped down the liquid, feeling it lubricate his burning throat and sending a sense of relief inside him.

"You think that's the worst of it?" she questioned sheepishly.

He didn't look at her, only nodded. He was certain his body would fight off the illness quickly, as he'd been sick before and it took him no longer than half an hour to overcome the nausea.

Bulma nodded and accepted that he wished to be left alone; she strolled out and sighed in disbelief. Any human with food poisoning would be sick for hours or even days, typical Saiyan to feel fine after five minutes. He was fully capable of looking after himself, but she wanted him to need her and even when he was most vulnerable, he didn't need her.

Vegeta retreated to his bed for the night, as his body had taken a severe internal beating, so he vowed never to trust that woman's cooking again, even though he guessed it was his own fault. Nevertheless, he grabbed her attention and the look of horror on her face was rather entertaining.

The duvet covers felt cold and light against his burning skin and he wriggled his way in between them, ready to settle down. He released a heavy sigh as he felt her ki approaching, quietly and trying to be stealthy. This always amused him, the effort she made, despite him being able to sense her at all times.

_Fool._

The door gradually creaked open and he waited for her to show herself, which she did gradually; her eyes big and blue in colour and her skin blushing with embarrassment.

"Are you ok?" she whispered, looking over curiously.

"What do you want now?"

"I dunno." She looked at her feet, "I feel guilty."

"Ha. Pathetic." Why would she feel guilty? She almost looked sympathetic, when he could handle anything she threw at him, well, most things.

"What I meant to say is, even though it wasn't my fault, I'm sorry about you getting sick." She said quite proudly while walking to his bed side, stirring another flush of sweat over Vegeta.

He raised a sharp eyebrow at her and inched his body away from her close proximity. She was fascinating and amusing and similar to himself. She could barely admit to a mistake (which she didn't really make) but she forced a pathetic and unnecessary apology upon him.

Before he could react, she was pressing her lips gently against his hot cheek.

"Gah." He spat, while pulling away from her touch and wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

"You need to get some rest. You look terrible." She said with a smirk, partially due to his childish yet cute reaction and partly because it was true.

He proceeded to wipe his hand on the bed sheets, as if she had literally spat a toxic substance on his face and his grimace faded in to a smirk.

"That is mutual information, woman." He said snidely as he watched her smile fade into a solid frown.

Without further curse words being release, she spun around and left the proud Saiyan to recuperate from his _fatal _illness.

Shutting the door gently on her way out.


	15. Confrontation

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter Fifteen  
><span>Confrontation<span>

* * *

><p>It had been decided, very reluctantly, but all the same. Bulma Briefs was going out on the town, after several years of avoiding it. She wasn't a party animal as such and found it painfully difficult to equip herself with enthusiasm, but she needed to live a little, so she called a few old friends and she booked 'Mood', the classiest night club in town. She was a VIP, and it was only fair for her to act it every now and again, now all she had to do was prepare herself. It was proving a chore, when living with a raging Saiyan, who was constantly demanding nothing but the best for his training. She had to barter him with a couple gravitrons, just to keep him occupied for the afternoon, which so far, was proving successful.<p>

As a matter of fact, the Capsule Corp compound had been blissfully peaceful for over half an hour, which did make Bulma feel slightly wary, but she was presently preoccupied with a more precise matter of painting her toe nails; carefully. She had chosen a subtle, cinder rose colour, which co-ordinated perfectly with her beige mini shorts and pink, flowing halter neck top. A gentle breeze flew in from the French doors, leading out on to the balcony, wafting the fresh smell of the outdoors to float around the room. Bulma, perched on the edge of her bed, with her foot stretched on to a small stool opposite, was squinting harshly, while the tip of her tongue poked out from between her lips. Painting her toe nails always had to be done with such prowess and with her practice over the years, she had finally found how to manage it without making a single mistake. She leaned back, wiggled her toes and smiled triumphantly; still grasping on to the tiny brush.

Her skin tightened and her heart stopped, when subtle flash appeared and a figure loomed over her.

"Hey Bulma!"

She lunged forward and the paint bottle soared through the air, crashing and coating her entire foot, completely ruining her freshly painted nails. Things like this were happening far too often, she hadn't had a single moment of piece, although, she shouldn't have let her guard down, events like this were only inevitable. Her widened eyes tore away from her splattered foot and they slowly took in the stature of her idiotic friend, Goku.

Instantly, Gokus cheery and gleeful grin dispersed and was replaced with fear, as he too watched the destruction take place, as if it all happened in slow motion. He glanced at her foot and then back at her face, which was now a faint crimson and he edged away towards the door.

After a couple of seconds, Bulma began to exhale heavily, in an attempt to calm herself down. The paint on her foot began to dry and she could feel it crisping on her skin, flaking every time she moved her foot; it was unpleasant. She looked at it once more and sighed, before glowering at Goku, who surprisingly smiled once more.

"Can't a girl get a minute of peace?" she said, her voice croaking with the remaining anger.

She leaned forward and began to pick the paint off her foot, not expecting Goku to respond at all, but then she would be getting him confused with someone else. He stepped closer.

"Sorry Bulma. Guess it's getting pretty annoying!" He laughed.

She arched an eyebrow, still focusing on her foot. It had come to focus that Goku had been popping up everywhere recently, ever since she had invited him to use the training facilities he'd been showing up out of the blue, scaring her half to death with his instant transmission. Most of the time he'd appear either in her room or in the kitchen, but there had been a few instances when he arrived in the shower, while she was showering or when she was on the toilet. She mused over whether or not he knew the exact location he would arrive at or if it was hit and miss, but she knew Goku well enough to know that he wouldn't try anything offensive or perverted, he was just being his clumsy self.

"Mhmm. Try and appear around Vegeta, I'm sure he'd love that." She said snidely, while flicking bits of dried paint across the room.

"Ha. I don't think so!" he retorted as she strode out the room, beyond the French doors and proceeded to jump on to the lawn below.

Bulma watched in amazement at his feline-like agility and how he gracefully flew out of the room. Maybe she envied Goku sometimes, but she was completely satisfied with the way she was, and didn't see flying or exceptional strength as a necessity, although it was nice to witness when it came to Vegeta, she couldn't deny the flush of sweat when she'd often spy on him training. She reverted to childish behaviour around him, acting like a love struck teenager and almost swooning over him when he'd walk by, but she covered it well with pretentious bravado and practically ignored him at all times; despite awaiting his arrival.

There wasn't any sense between the two of them. Bulma knew that she _liked_ Vegeta, but wasn't sure if there was anything more. She didn't even know how she felt about Yamcha, whether she in fact loved him or maybe she just liked his company, but this was different. There was an unusual atmosphere when they were together and the fact that their sexual encounters had been disrupted on many accounts, only mounted up the tension and the desire for one another. Well, that's what Bulma had derived from his willingness to attempt once more, although he was a proud man and she didn't know if he would try again. He'd been subjected to too much embarrassment and she highly doubted he would be so willing to approach her again. Maybe she should make a move on him. Maybe not. It was itching at her, she had been giving herself up too easily for him, she barely knew him and they hadn't really had an actual conversation. She knew a little bit about his past, but that was only the result of a lot of alcohol, so that didn't count. Maybe she should try and get to know the man she was attempting to pursue, before jumping in to bed with him.

Tonight wasn't the night to worry about Vegeta, as tonight was about her and she just wanted to push any irritating thoughts to the back of her mind. Vegeta _was_ an irritating thought.

Vegeta observed Goku, as he pressed on with various push ups and sit ups. He wondered why he persisted on training outside and not under the forceful gravity pressure, which ultimately helped him ascend. What was the point of him training here if he wasn't going to use the facilities? Maybe he needed peace away from that incessant wench of his. He sneered, leaning against the wall, as Goku smiled and stood up. That's when Vegeta decided to push Goku and make him display his full power. He hadn't studied the super Saiyan form thoroughly and wanted to get a closer look at what he was working for. He did resent Goku for reaching this particular plateau before himself, but it was only a matter of time before he too became strong, if not stronger, than this third class moron.

He crossed his arms and strode over towards Goku, who stood warily, anticipating his next move. Once they were a couple of metres apart, Vegeta settled and uncrossed his arms.

"Kakarot. Transform. I want to see it properly for myself." He demanded, clenching his fists.

Gokus eyes widened in surprise and watched Vegeta carefully, to make sure he wasn't planning anything devious.

"What? Now?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Yes, now. Get on with it before I lose my patience." He huffed and scrutinized the significantly taller Saiyan.

"I don't think it's such a good idea…"

"I wasn't asking. Transform, now!" His ki flared, glowing around him and lifting several strands of grass from the roots.

"Ok…Jeez, Vegeta…" Goku responded indignantly, rolling his eyes and taking his stance.

It didn't take long before Goku transformed completely, his hair now golden, shimmering in the dull sun light, and his eyes a cool teal, staring ahead as if Vegeta wasn't present at all. He watched Vegeta, noticing the look of contempt on his hard features, waiting for him to speak, but he didn't he just remained silent.

Vegeta had wanted to see this extraordinary sight, but he hadn't planned on feeling a great pang of sorrow in his heart. To him, this was a kick in the face, a third class clown, stealing what was his birth right and rubbing it, smearing it, in his face. For a moment, he thought about his father and how he would have reacted if he were present today, but he knew. He knew his name had been slandered. How could he have let himself slip? Why? He clenched his fists tighter, losing the circulation in his hands, and he watched the dumbfounded look which grew upon Gokus face.

"Uh. Now what?" He asked, waiting for the next command.

Vegeta gritted his teeth and ultimately chewed the inside of his cheek. The power which he extensively desired was within reaching distance, yet he couldn't touch it and someone who could never appreciate such greatness, was standing directly in front of him, wavering around like an idiot.

The sound of on-going traffic became louder as Vegeta and Goku stood meters apart, watching one another intently. Goku was growing anxious and decided to lower his ki and return to his normal state, as Vegeta looked fit to destroy something and he hoped it wasn't him. Although Goku knew he could probably beat Vegeta in a fight, he also knew it would be difficult, super Saiyan or not. When they fought for the first time, it took a hell of a lot of energy to defeat Vegeta and even then, he needed the help of his friends. So if it ever came to fighting with him again, he knew to be cautious, as Vegeta was very tactical as well as strong, so it _could _turn out either way. He wasn't worried about him, he knew Vegeta would become a super Saiyan, but what did worry him, was what he would do with the newly acquired power. So far, Vegeta proved to pose no real threat towards earth, but there was an apparent notion of awareness between a few of Gokus friends, which Goku had chosen to override, but that didn't mean he never thought about it. Admittedly, he assumed that by having a child with Bulma, would surely calm him down and maybe he'd adapt to the earth and it's customs, but as Trunks said, it was merely an act of passion, which sounded spot on when it came down to Vegeta.

As Gokus hair quickly reversed back to its usual colour, he watched in anticipation, as Vegeta continued to glare at him. Just as he was about to utter an apology, Vegeta huffed, spun around and removed himself from the lawn, heading in the direction of the entrance to the building.

Goku gawped and quickly shrugged, before continuing his push ups.

There was only a few more adjustments before Bulma was completely ready to go out and the girls would be arriving shortly, so she was pressed for time. She sat impatiently, opposite her mirror, curling a lock of hair around her curling tongs, counting ten seconds each time. Her make-up was complete, just a touch of foundation, rouge, mascara and pink lipstick. She was already dressed and all she had to do was put on her heals and wait for the girls to arrive in the stretch limo she ordered. But her hair was proving impossible, she curled several pieces repeatedly, but couldn't seem to get one side to reflect the other. The sound of her hair sizzling was aggravating and the heat emanating from the tongs was beginning to make her sweat, causing her make-up to moisten around her t-zone. She blew a stray bang off her face and loosened her grip on the tong, revealing a perfectly loose curl. A sigh escaped her lips as she grasped on to another lock of hair and repeated the manoeuvre all over again, for the umpteenth time.

A few seconds later, her mind became distracted by an aggressive stomping on the stairs. Her bedroom door was open and she caught a glimpse of Vegeta trudging past, without batting an eyelid and then the corridor fell silent for a partial moment, before the sound of a bedroom door being slammed shook the room and caused Bulma to jerk forward. As she jerked, she lost her grip on the tongs and they swung into her neck, still locked around a section of her hair and ultimately scorching the delicate skin behind her ear. She squealed and frantically loosened the tongs, before switching them off and throwing them on the dresser table. Her neck throbbed and soared with pain, and she rushed into the en-suite to splash some cold water onto it. It did alleviate the pain momentarily, but the dull throbbing was still very present, as was the anger which began to build within her. That was twice now, twice that a Saiyan had disrupted her pampering and left her wanting to kill. These Saiyans were running around her house like juvenile delinquents, demanding and most of the time getting, while leaving a trail of destruction. She didn't care how sexy and muscular they were, they were _not_ going to deter her from her _one _night out, with their childish misdemeanours.

The penny sized blotch on her neck was beginning to glow a dark pink and it was very noticeable, the last thing Bulma needed before going on a night out. Not that she was planning on pulling anyone, but if the chance arose, she wouldn't turn it down, although they'd have to be devilishly handsome and Vegeta was a hard man to beat when it came to looks; regardless of his height. That thought, surprisingly, angered her more so. She could get any man she wanted of course and Vegeta wouldn't even think twice about it, so why did he pop into her mind when she contemplated perusing another man?

"No." she uttered to herself.

She promised not to dwell upon thoughts of Vegeta. Not tonight. But, she did want to confront him about the new burn she had received, due to _his_ selfish attitude. She partially wondered what could have gotten him so angry, but he acted the same almost every evening and she had grown used to it. It _had _been a year, even though it seemed like a lot longer.

As she swung the door of Vegetas room open, she could see him, standing outside at the balcony, clenching and relaxing his fists repeatedly, provoking her to roll her eyes and continue on in.

It wasn't any surprise that she had followed him in to his room, she _was _obsessed after all. But he was in no mood for her to be poking her nose into his business yet again and he certainly didn't want her to go on yelling at him either. He had reacted badly to Kakarot and his super Saiyan ascension, leaving him slightly wounded and without hesitation, he went off to train for three hours, under a heavy routine, leaving himself heavily bruised and beaten. Yet still, nothing. He was beginning to grow impatient and no matter what he did, he couldn't make it to the next level. Sure, he would feel stronger and he would kid himself that eventually he would ascend, but what if he just couldn't do it? It was a possibility he had trained himself to overlook, knowing that he was of royal blood; it was only a matter of time. But recently the thought was becoming persistent, over in his mind, constantly burdening him. Kakarots display was like a wakeup call, one that he would learn from. But how?

Bulma continued to fume, as Vegeta remained with his back facing her, despite sensing her obvious presence. She stopped a few feet behind him, making sure she was still indoors, after mastering her curls there was no way she would risk stepping outside for it to be instantly destroyed. Again, she blew a bang out of her flushed face, placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently, before giving in. "Vegeta?" She said clearly.

He failed to turn around which infuriated her further, as her face began to pulse, isolating the increasing throbbing pain behind her ear. Gently, she pressed the her index finger into the burn on her neck, provoking her to hiss at the irritating stinging sensation and frown severely.

"Look what's happened because of you!" she ordered, while wincing overdramatically.

For some unknown reason, the thought of her in pain forced him to spin 'round involuntarily and the sight before him caught his breath and held it in his throat. His eyes roamed across her body and face, and he momentarily forgot about all thoughts apart from this woman, who was standing in front of him. Her scent engulfed his senses and made him feel quite content, while her image seemed to paralyze his entire body. Nothing but a small gasp escaped his lips.

Bulma, completely oblivious to his entrancement, continued to fume and persist at attempting to make him feel a tiny ounce of guilt. She pulled back her locks, revealing the small burn and pointed it out to Vegeta, so he could get a good look at what he had done.

"Look!" She croaked.

As pathetic as it seemed, the first degree burn was hurting quite a bit and the pain was increasing slowly, but Bulma masked it through her anger and aimed it all at Vegeta, who was still staring, without flinching. A bit befuddled, Bulma arched an eyebrow as she waited for a sneer or a snide remark, but she got nothing other than his stare, which was making her feel uncomfortable.

"You see it? I'm going out tonight. What are people going to think?" She said, while letting go of her hair and crossing her arms.

Vegeta blinked and absorbed the words she exclaimed, trying to process her meaning. He could only concur, that people would think that she was stunningly beautiful. So why was she angry? And what was she pointing at on her neck? There was barely a mark there. Of course, there would be no need to let her know these thoughts.

"A giant hickey. That's what people will think. I have a reputation y'know." She sighed and then pouted.

"A what?" he questioned indignantly.

"A hickey. A love bite. A bite mark. Teeth. On my skin. You know…" she waved a hand dismissively.

Vegeta grinned maliciously at the thought of men being repelled by her sexual antics at home. Not that there was any, but their misconceptions amused him. _Foolish humans._The grin soon faded at another thought, a thought of her being surrounded by male humans, like the weakling. That thought enforced that God awful jealous feeling, which was flaring up far too often, it made him feel a bit nauseous and the pent up anger that vanished, was slowly creeping its way back into his mind.

Bulma continued, regardless of his lack of response. "Yeah, well, I'll have to cover it up with concealer or something. But it'll _still _be visible." She sighed again.

Vegeta stared at her blankly, wondering what in God's name she was moaning about, he hadn't a clue what _concealer_ was and he didn't really care. All he wanted now was to have this woman, but he knew that would be impossible due her current state of mind. Although, he guessed he could easily shut her up, by giving her what she _really _wants, but the amount of times he'd tried and failed, he only anticipated what could _possibly _happen to him next. Maybe she'd laugh at him and he'd end up blasting her to pieces, or worse, Kakarot would appear out of thin air and giggle with that horrific voice of his. He shuddered at the thought.

It had been a few seconds of heated tension, Vegeta continued to stare lustfully at Bulma and her eyes warily darted side to side, as she grew more uncomfortable with each second.

Time was pressing on and she was undecided with what to do. Vegeta clearly had that _look_ in his eyes, the one which she dreamed he would have again, but her limo was arriving in five minutes. A thought passed her mind about a very quick activity they could participate in, but she'd be far too dishevelled to then go out clubbing and Vegetas pride would _have _to override the 'one minute warrior' stereotype. It certainly was a predicament, placing Bulma right in the middle. Was Vegeta worth skipping, a very much needed, night out for?

A car horn honked abruptly from outside, causing Bulma to gasp, yet Vegeta merely flinched at the intrusive sound; his eyes still fixated on the beauty in front of him. The noise was painful to his eyes, mainly for the fact that it would mean she would have leave, but also because it was followed by a bunch of screaming banshees, screeching from inside the vehicle.

Bulma sighed, but couldn't justify whether it was a sigh of relief or that of disappointment. The sound of her friends giggling and beckoning her to join them, made up her mind for her.

"Right…Well, I better get going…I'll see you tomorrow." She muttered, before sauntering out the room.

Vegeta huffed and approached the balcony. It wasn't long before he got a glimpse of her running across the lawn, holding up a bottle of wine and returning the screams of excitement, before hopping in to the elongated vehicle and disappearing out of his line of vision. Another chance missed. He couldn't conclude how he felt for this woman, but the sight of her leaving disappointed him to a great extent. Another matter throbbed in his mind though. He needed to train and now that she was out of sight for the night, there shouldn't be any distractions.

He gazed at the stars, noticing the full moon, presently capturing a large fraction of the sky and his mind drifted into the memories of his last transition and how long ago it was. Again, Kakarot managed to slander his Saiyan heritage by removing the one physical thing which separated him fully from the human race. No wonder Kakarot blended in so well. He could barely recollect his last transition under the full moon, but he knew he caused havoc and destroyed so many lives. The one thing that fully satisfied his mind. Could he go back to that? Probably. Things had changed dramatically around him, but had _he_ changed? He didn't know. Given the opportunity, he would kill again; he could take responsibility for innocent blood, smeared across his hands. It was what he was born to do, or what he had learnt to do. No one on this useless rock knew what he was _truly_ capable of; not even Kakarot. It hindered him. _She_ hindered him. Every time she was close, he would lose sense and forget what he was destined to achieve. Why would this happen? And why now, to be precise.

A heavy sigh left his mouth as he retreated back to GR. No matter how much he convinced himself that she didn't matter. He knew she did.

The night quickly crept into the day, as Vegeta pummelled through with his training. It had gone three o'clock, despite being overwhelmed with exhaustion; Vegeta had managed to plough through six more hours of throwing himself from one end of the room to the other. He was still awake and the thought of Bulmas return crossed his mind , but the crushing force of 930G eliminated those thoughts instantly and he managed to keep them at bay for several hours, progressing further and moving quicker than ever before. A decision, to carry on with several thousand sit ups, was made and he positioned himself on the floor, ready to begin. A few strained grunts were released, sweat beads dripping from his tired skin clung on stubbornly, but his mind was completely focused on to the next rep. A loud bang on the window instantly drew him out of thought, knowing what had caused the noise, he chose to ignore it, her. Several seconds past and he continued to ignore her presence on the other side of the glass, but curiosity and another persistent bang on the glass, forced him to make eye contact.

Bulma was pressing her face up against the window, pulling absurd faces, then removing her face and pointing and laughing at the greasy mark she'd left on the glass. Clearly intoxicated once again, but this time, she was acting more childish than he'd ever seen. As they both locked eyes, she began to wave frantically and pointing at the large green button on the inside of the room, to which she was unable to get to. Pushing it would only allow her to waltz in and disturb his training, so he simply turned around, so that his back was now facing her and continued on with his sit ups.

The glass was more or less sound proof and thankfully he couldn't hear her screeching voice reverberating round the compound, but within a matter of a few seconds, he heard a very faint clattering and tinkering and before he could stop her, the gravity returned to the earths normality and the door flew open. Even though very drunk, Bulma was still a genius and knew her own inventions inside out, so overriding the system was all too easy; all she had to do was rearrange a few wires.

The smell of alcohol wafted through the room and Vegeta winced at the concentration from the smell; it wasn't the usual fruity wine she had been drinking, this was far too foul a smell. Bulma removed her shoes and skipped into the room, twirling around and advancing, before she almost collided with Vegeta, who remained still on the floor.

"Hellooo, Prince Vegeta!" she sang and wobbled, before gradually regaining balance.

He stood up and moved a fair distance from her, the smell was overpowering and her behaviour could be very unpredictable being this inebriated.

He crossed his arms and avoided eye contact, "Finally addressing me correctly." He said with a forceful smirk.

Bulma grinned and stepped closer to him, drawing a circle with the tip of her finger, across his chest. "How about I _un_dress you?" She bit her bottom lip, trying to be alluring.

"No." Was his simple reply.

He had no problem with rejecting her when she was like this. To him, she wasn't herself and not the woman he had become fond of.

Bulma hadn't stopped thinking about Vegeta throughout the entire night. There had been many men who had attempted to dance with her and maybe she had kissed a few, but it was for the sake of being on a night out and she didn't feel half the excitement she got when with Vegeta. Not that she had actually _been _with Vegeta, but he remained in her mind the entire night and it wasn't subtly either, she even pictured him out with her, even if he just stood there in the corner of the room observing; she knew she would have had a better night. Bulma wasn't old, but going out with a group of single girls, at her age, had lost its appeal and she just wanted to come home. The plan wasn't thorough and maybe she had drunk too much, but she wanted Vegeta, not just physically, she knew she wanted all of him.

"Nawh. Why not?" she frowned and pouted.

Vegeta sighed, "Because my nudity is for my eyes only." He responded indignantly.

"Well, why do you walk around half naked all the time? Flashing your stuff everywhere and tempting me."

"My _stuff_?" He blushed and turned away from her once more, "Can't you see I'm busy, get out." He continued calmly.

"I'm sure you can spare an hour…or two." She looked him up and down suggestively.

Horrified, he focused his stare on the wall opposite, hoping that she would get bored and walk away, but being drunk only heightened her usual tendencies and she remained still, watching him closely.

For some odd reason, he respected her and wasn't prepared to satisfy his own needs, when she was unable to think or stand straight; to him, that wouldn't be satisfying at all. If anything were to happen between them, she would have to sober; she would _want _to remember it clearly. His thoughts were cut short by her croaky, slurred words.

"You're upset about something." She said, and sat down on the floor as her feet began to throb. "C'mon, sit." She tapped the space beside her.

He raised an eyebrow at her strange behaviour and decided it'd be best for him to remain standing where he was.

"Suit yourself." She stated, while whipping out a tube of lip gloss and lavishing her lips with the contents. She smacked her lips and glanced around the room, taking in the bland décor and dreary atmosphere it brought with it; it was beginning to make _her_ feel miserable.

"Goku used to act strange…er…but he'd always come around." She continued with a smile.

The simple utterance of his name forced a pal of anger within Vegeta, and he chewed the inside of his mouth in an attempt to suppress it. "That idiot is a virus." He spat.

"Blah blah blah. Get over it. He's my best friend."

He vowed he would never hurt this woman, but at this present moment, she just might make him break his own promise.

"Tch. Friends are worthless. Why do you bother holding on to such a futile bond?"

"Because friends help you, make you feel better. Y'know, when you're low." She felt like she was enduring a counselling session with Vegeta. She liked explaining things to him.

"What are you talking about?" He scoffed.

"Well, for example. When I first heard about Yamchas latest _friend_, I called Chichi…And she reassured me, set my mind straight." She said, while rummaging through her clutch purse.

"This is far greater than some failed courtship between you and that waste of breath." He grinned.

"Ah. So, there _is _a problem." She said while producing a cigarette.

His eyes widened and his body stiffened, but he composed himself and pulled up a front. "Nothing I'm prepared to share with you."

"Ok. I understand…" she pulled out a lighter, placed the cigarette in her mouth and proceeded to light it; cupping one hand over the end of it and pursing her lips.

Once the cigarette was lit, she inhaled a mouthful of smoke and then blew it out from her nostrils, sighing in relief at the same time. Instantly, Vegeta frowned at the sight before him and his nostrils flared from the toxic fumes she was producing. He looked at her, breathing smoke, and he didn't like what he saw; something so delicate doing something so vulgar.

Bulma caught his look of disappointment and she sighed, while taking another long pull of the cigarette. "Yeah, I know it's bad, but I only do it occasionally."

"Well if you're going to continue to kill yourself, do it outside and away from me." He pointed to the open door.

Slightly hurt by his harsh tone, Bulma stuttered, "Wh- You don't like it?" She spun the cigarette around between her index finger and thumb, studying it in colour and texture, before biting hard on her bottom lip. "I can stop. Look." She quickly stubbed it out on the floor, watching the smoke puff into a tiny cloud beneath her fingertips.

A couple of seconds past and Vegeta noticed that she was dropping her head and slowly drifting in and out of sleep. He despised the thought of having to remove her himself, she smelled awful and he'd be damned if it rubbed off on to him.

"Woman…woman?" he protested, but she failed to move. "Wo-Bulma?"

Her head shot up, and her eyes widened and she looked around the room, startled. "Hn, what?"

Relief washed over him, for that she didn't register him calling her by her name. He would try not to make that mistake again. "You're disrupting my training. So I suggest you take your intoxicated backside and leave, before I have to kick you out myself."

"Hey…It's my home…I want to talk to you anyway." She said with a yawn.

"That's great news, but I don't care. Now get out."

Bulma rolled her eyes and continued, almost a whisper. "You need to make your mind up, _bud._" She searched his expression. "One minute you can't get enough of me…The next…"

"I don't want to hear it." He interjected.

She was far too drunk to be talking any sense and he guessed she hadn't a clue what she was blabbering about anyway. Besides, he had no interest in her accusations. Ignoring her, he decided to spar with an invisible partner, punching the air hard and grunting in clear exhaustion.

"So you're just going to pretend I'm not here. No, it's fine, I get it now, big shot." She said, while getting to her feet and heading in the direction of the door.

Suddenly, her words hit him, causing him to cease his actions and catch her before she left. "Get what, exactly?" He was curious to know what her assumptions of _his _problems were.

She stopped, but didn't turn to face him. "What your problem is."

"You have no idea, woman. Quit while you can. You're in no mind to tell me what you _think_ you _know_." He spat venom.

She spun around and got a good look at his scornful expression and she knew she was trudging into deeper water, but she couldn't care less. It was clear what was wrong with him, she may not know the depths of his past, but she knew what was wrong with him now and his internal struggle. "You're scared."

He laughed. "Oh? And what am I scared of?" he arched an eyebrow, beckoning her response.

"…Yourself." She stated, while searching his eyes.

Vegeta almost gasped and clamped his mouth shut. She had simply rendered him speechless by hitting the nail on the head. He was amazed more than anything else, how despite being full of alcohol, she was able to read him quite well and diagnose his problems. Just by hearing her say it, made it all the more clear to him and provoked a strange feeling within him. He scrutinised the woman before him, watching her sombre expression, wondering why she was trying to make him share his troubles.

Bulma glanced up at him and sighed. "I'm always around. If you ever want to talk about _anything_." She said solemnly, before exiting the GR.

As she scuttled out the room, leaving Vegeta standing in the centre, eyes wide and mouth tightly shut, her ki failed to disappear and after a few silent minutes, Vegeta decided to investigate. He swiftly exited the GR and headed down the corridor, almost tripping over her body, which was sprawled out across the bottom of the stair case. She was slumbering deeply at the foot of the stairs, a thick web of drool escaping from the corner of her mouth.

The thought to step over her presented itself, but he couldn't, not now. Maybe if he moved her into the sitting room, she wouldn't grow suspicious. He didn't want her hanging around him, grasping for his affections because she would never receive them, but he _did_ want her around sometimes; as long as she wasn't angry or drunk, he couldn't cope with her mood swings. He stood before her and watched her rhythmic breathing. The sight of her sleeping always fascinated him, even though her snoring was louder than that of a volcanic eruption.

He picked her up and grimaced at the smell emanating from her clothes, also picking up on a few male scents lingering on her skin, which didn't please him at all. He swept her under his arm and pinched his nose with his free hand, before heading towards the sitting room.

_Foolish woman._

He decided that he would place her down on the sofa and leave. Yes. Or maybe he'd stay for a little while longer. He didn't know.


	16. Answers and Questions

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 16  
><span>Answers and Questions<span>

* * *

><p>A narcotic, red, hazy tint hung in the room and he blinked countless times in an attempt to rectify his vision, but best efforts couldn't cleanse the picture before him. The setting was familiar, yet unfamiliar all the same, but an uncertainly swelled inside him as he found it increasingly difficult to move or focus at all. As his eyes darted from left to right, he could gather that he was in the sitting room, on the sofa, in the main house of the Capsule Corporation building. The haze adjusted and as he swung his head to the left, his half hooded eyes widening; seeing the pretty creature he knew to be Bulma. She was delicately coiling a lock of her fluvial hair around her dainty index finger, while biting her bottom lip and staring aimlessly at the floor beneath her feet. What was going through her mind was the first thing he wanted to know. Never mind the odd situation he found himself in, or how it came to be in the first place. Slowly, her eyes ripped away from the floor and caught his reluctant gaze within an instant, a palpable curiousness in her blue orbs.<p>

"Hey." She announced lightly.

"…" he failed to return.

Regardless of his obvious lack of speech, she continued with a generous smile, while he felt the room grow darker and a deeper shade of red, as if someone was purposely dimming the lights.

"I wanted to talk to you…Last night I couldn't get the words out." She laughed at the latter part, but returned her gaze to the floor.

He didn't speak, as he didn't know what to say. This woman was crazy, but he would hear her out for the moment. Although the heaviness in his skull was becoming a burden and he was struggling to focus his attention on the words which left her mouth.

"We're friends right?" she continued abruptly.

The words seemed to roll off her tongue too easily, forcing a virulent feeling to bubble in his stomach. Friends? He looked away, but continued to mull over her deluded accusations. Why would she assume such an atrocity? They were not _friends _and probably never would be, so what in world brought her to that sudden conclusion and to sound so confident about it was truly mind boggling. Despite his confusion and anger, he could only muster a simple answer and delivered it casually.

"Not really." He stated.

Her smile widened and she glanced over once more, sending jolts of apprehension down his spine.

"Well." She continued, "I think we should stop pretending…I uh. No…What I want to tell you is…uh…I think I'm…No, that's not right." She sighed and locked her fingers tightly together.

That clarified it. She had gone insane, for sure. His brows knitted together and he curiously leaned towards her.

"Well? Spit it out." He said in a reedy tone.

For the great part of five minutes, they looked at each other dead in the eyes, neither blinking nor uttering, before she blushed and turned away.

"I like you. I mean, I think I've fallen for you…" Then she pinched the bridge of her nose and winced as if in a great amount of pain. "Oh God, Bulma. What are you saying?"

His stomach leaped and an unfamiliar tingling hindered the skin all over his body. What were these words? Were they true? Did he care? Clearly. His reactions were shameful and would result in bespattering his entire race, but at the same time, something felt normal about it. As he watched her, the woman who had just declared her feelings for him, he swallowed a large lump in his throat and felt his palms begin to sweat; joint with the heaviness and lack of lighting in the room, he was border line nauseous.

"Maybe we could go out. Like,_ out _out." She continued shyly. "No, that would never work."

He thought about it, but knew that the concept of him partaking in anything remotely human-like was appalling, thus he felt inclined to rebuff her ridiculous offer. Plus, he didn't go _out_; the thought alone provoked a lump of vomit to swill in his mouth. Something seemed peculiar about her, her smile, the edginess in her voice, her posture and attitude. It wasn't like her at all. He knew her, at least, well enough to know that this supple behaviour was far from her usual, provocative and delightfully corrupt character.

"That's a bad idea." He settled firmly.

"I just wanted to tell you…And was wondering if you felt the same. Nah, pretend I didn't say anything. I hope you can't hear me" She smiled again, this time her gaze looking somewhat ghostly.

Unhinged, he raised a questioning eyebrow, contemplating whether or not to repeat what he had clearly stated. He wanted this woman, but _this_ particular behaviour and whatever it was she was proposing, was off putting. Again, he repeated her words in his mind, before sneering at her hopeful stare.

"What? I haven't said anything of the sort." He snorted.

She blinked, fluttering her eyelashes and flashing her pearly teeth towards him, before reaching out a hand.

He stared as her arm seemed to travel right through the front of his torso and through to the other side, as if he were a ghost and suddenly he saw in her eyes, that she wasn't looking at him, but at someone else. He quickly whizzed around, to become transfixed at the sight before him.

"Kakarot?" He exclaimed, bitterness projecting around the room.

His eyes narrowed at the Saiyan, sitting beside him, holding on to the hand of the woman that he wanted for himself, and grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat. (He had become familiar with many Disney characters after being involved with Bulmas ritual infatuation with the irritatingly infectious films and songs.) As he turned to look a Bulma, he felt betrayal and most of all, he felt hurt. Even though he tried his best to stay away from her, unfortunately unsuccessfully most of the time, to see her like this with another man, Kakarot for that matter, was painful to witness and the sight was gut wrenching.

An inferno wrapped around all of his senses, flickering in his eyes and licking his soul. Now he could see the picture clearly, as if he'd been pushed aside to watch this ridiculous pantomime, to witness without being able to act or prevent the display from moving further. He watched Kakarot. First he steals his rightful place as the strongest being in the galaxy, now he takes _her_? His breathing became heavy, his heart began to pound through his rib cage, his ki flamed around him and he shouted, screamed and yelled, before everything abruptly snapped into darkness and drew deadly silent.

"Ahh!" he exclaimed, throwing himself forward, gripping onto the arm of the sofa, and opening his eyes in horror; sweat stuck to his entire body.

"Oh my, Vegeta. Looks like you were having a bad dream!" Bunny gasped with a hand to her chest, perplexed for a moment, before resuming to humming and dotting round the room.

As he took in his surroundings, he concluded that he had suffered from a night terror and the world he was seeing now, was his reality, but dauntingly enough, he was in fact in the sitting room, sitting on the sofa. But how? The woman. He could smell her potent aroma, etched on to the fabric of the sofa and on his clothes. There was a clear indentation where she must have sat, but no sign of her and as he sensed around, ignoring Bunny, he couldn't feel her ki anywhere close. His memory told him that he assisted her to the sofa, due to her complete drunkenness and stayed longer than he had planned, consequently falling asleep.

But the dream had felt so real that he didn't want to see or talk to her again, even though she hadn't done anything wrong, he had seen it and it certainly wasn't pleasing to the eye. He didn't know whether he was relieved or more agitated that the entire thing boiled down to his own twisted imagination. He shouldn't have been dreaming about those two at all. The thought unsettled him. Unfortunately, Kakarots ki was sickeningly close and Vegeta didn't know if he would be able to stop himself from beating him into the ground, and feel the slightest ounce of remorse. He would relish the challenge.

Due to losing his focus, he didn't anticipate the floosy approach him, and he flinched under her lecherous touch.

"Can I get you anything to eat, dear?" She asked excitedly, gazing upon his complete masculinity.

He cursed lightly under his breath and refrained from looking at the wanton creature, but before he could get a word in, she continued on mindlessly.

"I bet you're wondering where Bulma is!"

It may have crossed his mind.

"I've just sent her to the bakery to pick up an order I placed this morning. She'll be home soon, don't you worry sweetie." She winked.

This morning? He turned to look at the clock, which read two in the afternoon, and he nearly combust into a fit of rage. He should have been up and training over eight hours ago and he had been asleep the entire time. Plus, that sneaky woman had gotten up, out and left him, without even considering waking him up. He clenched his fists and stomped away arbitrarily, knocking over a glass vase, to which Bunny had to dive in to the air to rescue.

He would find Kakarot training and he would blast him into another universe, before reaccumulating the time he had lost.

Bulma strode home, humming happily in the blissful sunshine, with several boxes of cakes stacked under her chin. Everything about this day seemed positive. Well, mostly everything. The weather was warming up, people were out by the hundreds in shorts and vest tops, the streets were bustling with cars, bikes, prams and animals; there was an infectious vibe in the air and Bulma was exposing herself, so she too, could be bitten by the happiness. A niggling feeling was itching at the back of her skull, pressing her to deal with the more fundamental issues of the day, rather than strangely agree to collect her mothers' abundance of pastries.

She wanted an excuse to get out of the house. It was more than a surprise to witness Vegeta lounging on the sofa beside her, snuggling up against the arm of the chair and dribbling on to the fabric. It was unusually comforting to know that he had somewhat looked out for her last night and she was touched. Thus it inevitably, in her mind, urged her to start waffling on to him about her true feelings, taken that he was genuinely sleeping and couldn't hear her. The opportunity presented itself, but she shamefully stuttered and tripped over the right words to say to him and when she heard him utter Goku's name, she panicked and grabbed any old excuse to hit the road.

Happiness indeed. She'd single handedly threw herself in with the sharks and all she could do now was hope that Vegeta was asleep and didn't hear a word she'd said. It was better that he thought of her as being extremely confident about her feelings, not like a bumbling adolescent.

The delectable sweetness of the cakes was oozing out of their containment as Bulma forcefully began to trot home with anticipation. She didn't have a plan. She would just take it as it came, head first and shoulders back. Hopefully Goku would prove his presence useful and, under controlled circumstances, stay around for dinner or something. Hope was a fine thing.

As the large Capsule Corp dome came into sight, Bulmas pace quickened until she was a few yards shy of the front lawn, being able to see clearly the unmistakable mane of the man she'd been desperately trying to avoid. Had he been waiting for her? Suddenly, the glorious sunshine seemed too far away and a storm cloud loomed over her alone. Back in the far corner of the lawn, by the old willow tree, stood Vegeta, grimacing and standing rigid in pure horror. The sight was beyond amusing and Bulma had forgotten what she was previously fretting about. As she edged closer to him, boxes of cakes obstructing her view, she could just about see why Vegeta looked so upset and the reason nearly crippled her with laughter.

Directly above him, on a rickety branch, sat 'mini Vegeta', looking down at him with a soil encrusted worm hanging out of his mouth. Vegeta, being the proud Saiyan he was, refused to move away from the creature, but it was clear what was making him so edgy.

Bulma pivoted to the side and grinned. "Awh. You scared of bugs?" She teased.

His reaction was priceless but he found it impossible to take his eyes away from the grotesque, slimy and disease riddled insect, which was dangling from the flying rats' mouth. Despite pulling up his most dedicated front, it eventually proved useless to try and hide what horrified him the most. A lump of bile was forming in his throat and a lurching sensation was beginning in the pit of his stomach, but he would not cave in front of her.

He hissed and the bird instantly took the message, scowling and flying away, allowing Vegeta to breathe and embody the strength and panache he had always used around her. As his shoulders began to relax and his muscles loosened, he took a long and hard glare at Bulma, who was trying to stifle her laughter by pressing her face into the cake boxes.

"Oh man, Vegeta. You're funny, I'll give you that." She took a better grip onto the boxes and straightened up.

"Shut up and get back to whatever it was you were doing. You saw nothing."

"Hey, no need to get all defensive! It was cute. Besides, I wanted to see how you are." She lied, but the pretence was necessary. Although if she wanted to find out whether or not he had heard her confessions, now was the time to drag it out of him, but knowing him, he'd most probably act it out and torture her. "Has Goku left already?" she grinned.

There she was again, talking about that bleeding Kakarot, wanting to know where he was and what he was doing all the time. Thankfully Kakarot had left not long ago, after Vegeta had _politely_ told him to leave, that is. The clown was happily helping himself to _his_ GR, using _his_ equipment and then eating _his _food. It was completely intolerable, so he may have singed the skin on his behind. He certainly got the message. Vegeta smirked at the memory of Goku, screaming in pain and running around the kitchen with a combusting backside, but the main point was, he was gone and hopefully he wouldn't come back, the sneaky swine.

"Kakarot has left, yes." He stated, emotionless.

"Oh. Hm." She shrugged, but the reality of the situation was she was deeply disappointed that her friend had left so soon, he usually stayed until at least five pm. Chichi must have something planned. She winced at the thought. Getting back to the plan, she shuffled the boxes a little and took a rather readied stance, being that she was indeed ready to face the fire. "Did you sleep ok?" she asked quietly, her stance proving frivolous.

"No. Not really." He said without much thought.

"Well, I did…Thanks for staying with me." She smiled a toothy grin.

The gratitude was certainly taken into account, but it was hard to look at her the same or believe anything she said. He had a few things to clarify himself.

"Oh, I didn't intend to. Your toxic breath must have rendered me unconscious. I had no choice in the matter." He reeled confidently, while crossing his arms and smirking at her negative reaction.

"My…My breath?" she stuttered, trying to breath less due to being uncomfortably aware of it. She snapped back into focus. "You aren't so fresh yourself. I don't remember you getting a shower last night and I'm guessing that because of your little _lie in_, you didn't rush to get one today either!" she huffed. Take that, you arrogant ass.

He guffawed, but knew she was right, but he certainly didn't smell, at least he thought he didn't. Subtly, he whiffed the air and could confidently say he did not in the least smell, not bad anyway. It was the smell of a Saiyan warrior, a smell so unique and rare; she should be revelling in it, not scoffing at him for it.

"I have bigger priorities. I'll shower later…"

"Yeah. Please do before _you_ render _me _unconscious. Phew!" she wrinkled her nose up and spun around, heading into the house.

Vegeta, not impressed, took a generous sniff of his arm pit and started to notice a slightly unsatisfying aroma emitting from that general area, but it was what he was supposed to smell like dammit. What did she expect him to smell like? Roses and honey? Anything that smelt sickeningly sweet he guessed.

Now was the time to return to his training, ignoring the irrational woman and all that he wanted to say to her. He was relatively satisfied with the way he handled himself in her presence. She _did_ have boxes masking most of her frame, so it would have been hard for him to conjure up any sexual thoughts or images and the sun light played a decent role in preventing his eyes to focus upon her glowing face; it went quite well. The sun was warm on his worn skin, it was pleasant, and so he decided that he would keep his training outside for now. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head.

Once again, the day was drawing to a close and Bulma was dropping in and out of consciousness. A night on the couch is never a brilliant idea when it results in you waking up the next morning with a stiff neck, plus having a bad hangover for the best part of the day; she was completely exhausted and she hadn't done anything productive in the slightest.

Bunny was still buzzing around the kitchen when Bulma arrived, humming and placing several entrees, wrapped in cling film, into the fridge and repeating the process over and over as if the meals were on some sort off infinite conveyer belt. Bulma scratched her head out of lethargy and yawned, catching her mothers' eye at the same time.

"Would you like a cake, Bulma?" she pushed a cherry bakewell tart under Bulmas nose.

The smell was tempting, even more so with it being shoved into her face, so she gratefully took it from her mothers' hands, peeling off the glazed cherry and popping it delicately into her mouth. She smiled and savoured the taste, before placing the small cake on the side.

"Oh. That reminds me. Vegeta was looking for you before." Bunny announced.

"He was?" She asked, genuinely surprised. What did he want?

Vegeta had been training all day and he and Bulma hadn't crossed paths for the good part of seven hours and now she was far too drained to even contemplate looking for him to ask what he wanted. The best guess was that it was something to do with the GR needing an upgrade as she hadn't done that in some time, but whatever it was, it could wait.

"Why, yes. I think he's outside on the lawn. But that was a few hours ago and I haven't seen him in a while…Hmmm. And I bought all these cakes for him."

"These are all for Vegeta?" Bulma inquired.

"He's a big strong man, Bulma. He needs all the energy he can get. Perfect husband material, dear." She giggled and returned to the fridge.

"Mom, he's not a child…" she sighed, ignoring most of what Bunny had said.

Never had someone fussed over a man as much as Bunny. It honestly surprised Bulma every day; the charade never grew old and it was quite funny when Vegeta completely disregarded her mothers' efforts to please him. Bulma should be standing up for her, but to be fair, she was treating him like a toddler and even though Bulma felt kind of sorry for Vegeta sometimes, he was capable of handling himself. She shrugged and left her mother to revel in her strange and fantastical world.

Her bed had never looked so inviting; she quickly stripped herself from her jeans and t-shirt and jumped in between the sheets. As the room quietened and she was able to hear to the sounds from outside, a grunting and heavy breathing was sounding from the lawn. As strange as it was, the sound of Vegeta training was quite comforting and it instantly soothed her to sleep.

A light fluttering sensation, stirred Bulma out of sleep. A pitter pattering on her lips. As she slowly opened her eyes and the rest of her sensed awoke, the sound and feeling became more prominent and she could make out the light, frantic fluttering of a set of wings. Being unable to see, the situation was immediately more terrifying, causing her to launch out of bed and shriek at the top of her lungs. Falling to the floor, entangled in her bed sheets, she scrambled around and rushed to her feet, searching for the light switch, till she eventually felt the coldness of the wall, where the switch promptly lay.

Once pressing the switch, she was able to see the gigantic moth, circling and swooping around the room, now presently distracted by the glowing light bulb. Bulma shrieked and ducked again, moving in to the brace position on the floor, so that the beast of a moth wouldn't destroy her. She watched it, transfixed and slightly perplexed by its' erratic behaviour and the obsession it had with the light bulb, but nonetheless, it was scary as hell. Maybe if it wasn't moving so fast, she wouldn't be as frightened, but this thing had a not so innocuous motive for flapping around in her bedroom, when she was _trying _to sleep. What was the purpose of it?

She sat, huddled against the door, but was soon knocked over when something prized the door open with an enormous bang, causing her to roll on to her side, her eyes still preoccupied watching the monster moth, dancing around her room.

Bulma took her eyes away from the moth for one second, just to see Vegeta standing above her with a very harsh frown, and blood shot eyes. She flinched as he proceeded to slam the door shut behind him, clearly pissed off.

"What is with all the racket?" he scorched, glowering at the woman cowering on the floor.

She happily got to her feet and hooked her arm around his, grasping on to his bare skin for comfort. "Vegeta! Thank God!"

Quite happy with the situation and her eagerness to touch him, he grinned, but paused for a moment, to then register what was going on. He quickly shrugged her off, cracked his neck with prowess and promptly watched her rigid frame, which was practically nude. Nude? What was this woman wearing? Nothing but her under garments. He huffed and tore his eyes away from her half naked body. He was doing so well, training all day, without any disturbances or any thought about her body, and now this? God dammit… "Get off me. You'd do anything to touch me – oomph…" he was cut off as the moth managed to swoop in and out of his mouth within a split second, leaving him startled.

Bulma suppressed her laughter by shrieking instead, but looking at Vegetas, now paralysed body, was hilarious to say the least.

"Argh! Blast. What in the world was that?" he said, blushing between a mixture of rage and absolute humiliation. He spat on to the carpet, making Bulma grimace and frown.

By this point, the moth was going crazy, desperately looking for an escape and Vegetas mouth must have seemed like the perfect exit. How wrong it was. Both beings eyes followed the moth, whirling, dipping and diving, whirling, dipping and diving, whirling, dipping and diving; until they too became dizzy. Vegeta was still fuming by the intrusion of his vocal orifice, scowling at the moth. For one, it had disturbed Bulma, who in turn had disturbed him from resting, and for two, who the hell did it think it was, colliding with a prince?

Bulma disturbed his train of thought, "Eep. Look." She pointed. "It's like the king of moths or something…it's huge!" she complained, looking hopefully at Vegeta.

He took a fighting stance in the middle of the room, placing one palm out towards the raging insect. "Well, I'm the prince of all Saiyans." He said proudly, while aiming and firing a blast, which was a direct hit, leaving the former moth to become nothing but a small cloud of dust. "…And now it's dead." He grinned sadistically.

Almost a second after he had done said act, he felt a hot palm smack him on the back of the head.

"Jerk! I didn't want you to kill it! Poor guy…Didn't even see it coming…" she sorrowfully watched the tiny particles floating to the ground.

Vegeta slowly turned around to face her, trying to conceal his anger. He understood that she was a bit insane, but she wanted his help and besides, the thing was clearly a pest. What do you do with pests? Eliminate them.

"What?" he said.

"Ohwell." She shrugged. "Thanks I guess. My knight in shining armour!" she swooned, stroking his arm.

"Anything to cease that screeching of yours. My ear drums almost imploded." He smirked.

Letting go of his arm, Bulma humphed and turned away. "I'm scared of moths…They're unpredictable. I don't know what you're smirking at. It's kinda the same as your phobia of worms!" she retaliated smugly.

He grumbled, "I'm not scared of…_worms_. I fear no living creature."

Bulma rolled her eyes and walked over to her bed, pulling back the sheets and producing an large pink t-shirt, which she threw over herself. "Here we go again with the macho stuff…Give it a rest will you. I saw your face. You were petrified of that thing. I don't blame you, they _are_ kind of disgusting. Hm, I would never have guessed you'd have a phobia of worms or whatever…" she mused.

"I am not…Forget it." He said as he turned for the door.

But Bulma didn't want him to leave, not just yet.

"Hey you. My mom said you were looking for my earlier."

Vegeta stopped and turned around. He hadn't been looking for her at all. The garden was his domain for the entirety of the day, so why would she assume he would be looking for her. Unless this was an elaborate trap, one her little games again; reeling him in. "Ha. As if I was doing such a thing. I have been working on becoming the best, all day if you had failed to notice." He scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

"Oh, hm. Then why…Never mind." She pondered as to why her mother would suggest such a thing, but it didn't take long for her to realise what Bunny was trying to do. She was smarter than Bulma had thought. A dark horse.

"If you haven't anything useful to say, then don't say anything at all." He returned casually.

She watched him, leaning on the door frame of her room, looking back with a curious stare and it prompted her to inquire. Every time she saw him in this calm state, she wanted him to stay, to talk mainly. It was fondness growing within her and anything to make him hang around for a bit longer would satisfy her mind. Also, she _did_ want to know if he'd heard her confess, she didn't get the right opportunity earlier. Now she would try again. "Vegeta. You didn't hear me…_say _anything to you this morning, did you?" she asked naively and watched him closely.

"No I did not." He sighed. "I'm leaving now." He tried again.

"It's just sometimes I talk in my sleep." She laughed at the obvious lie.

The nervousness in her voice and change in her scent was very apparent, causing him to become intrigued, so he willingly stuck around for a bit longer. The question was somewhat haunting, as if she was talking about his dream, but that couldn't be possible. Mind you, she was bizarre, maybe she was a witch. No, she was far too pretty compared to the witches he had seen in Hocus Pocus and Snow White. "Actually, I did hear you confess your great love for Kakarot." He threw at her, waiting for her to take the bait.

She arched an eyebrow, before bursting into laughter. That cleared the air. He mustn't have heard her, or at least not correctly. "Now I know I didn't say _that_. Eurgh. Goku is my _best _friend. He's a bit young for me don't you think?" she laughed again.

"Yes, I've heard that before. I am training again in three hours and I don't have time to chat." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Once all the laughter had left Bulmas body, she began to ponder again, noticing Vegetas readiness to leave. "You know, I was talking to Goku about you Saiyans and how you become super and incredibly strong…"

This caught his attention. Yes, she had been talking to Kakarot again. Swooning over him more like. But also, she had been wanting to know about Saiyans, yet she had never thought to ask him. Granted, he probably would have told her to get lost, but she could have at least tried. The invitation from her was there, yet he never thought to take it. "Yes?" he uttered.

She pulled the sheets back again and walked over towards him. "I dunno…I was just curious about how _he_ did it and why you can't. He told me that the power presents itself in response to a need and not a desire. Maybe because you want it so bad, it's moving further and further away, meaning something must trigger it, like an event or in Gokus case, the death of his friend." She placed a finger to her chin, trying to look sophisticated.

Vegeta on the other hand, was less impressed. She was assuming she knew things once again and he didn't take kindly to it. "What's your point?" he said. Should he take the advice of a halfwit like Kakarot? Maybe Bulma _was_ just trying to help him, but he had conditioned himself to work alone at all times, so the help of anyone else was more of an intrusion than anything.

She gazed in to the air, deep in thought. "Maybe you need to change your tactics. You're motives. You know."

"Psh. Whatever. In order to achieve any power, that damn GR needs to be upgraded to at least 1000Gs." He stated.

"But why crush your bones into tiny pieces? It's not safe and I'm not condoning it." She implied.

What he was doing was completely immoral to her, yet she was fuelling him by fixing and upgrading that machine. But if she stopped, he would probably high tail it out of there. There would be no reason to stay, but she didn't want to see him hurt. It was bad enough when he first arrived, she didn't know if she could cope with seeing him like that again.

Vegeta quickly invaded her space. If she wants to know about him, then he'll tell her, but he wasn't going to sugar coat his words or paint a pretty picture for her. It would be raw and factual. "You're human. You don't and won't _ever _understand the want and need for greatness. Kakarot should have told you that much." He looked into her eyes.

"That's because Goku isn't like all Saiyans." She murmured, quite indimidated by the close proximity and the sudden look of want in his eyes.

"You'll find him and I have a lot in common." He said gruffly, "Our lust for blood and our pugnacity. Saiyans will never change. We live to fight. The battle always comes first, even before _loved ones_. Nothing else matters until we've drained every last drop of blood from our enemies' carcasses. We strive for perfection and once we achieve it, we will push further."

Bulmas mouth became dry. All of a sudden, she saw Vegeta, the Prince, standing before her and she was completely fixated by his words. There was a glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer of hope. Vegeta wasn't as arrogant as she had first assumed and he wasn't obsessed with being the best for the sake of being the best. She understood now. She understood that he was doing all of this, not to save the world or assist the rest of the z fighters, but to avenge his lost race. It was an act of nobility and pride. Noble, that's what he was. Fighting with honour, even though his race was almost extinct… he would carry on their name until he eventually meets his own end, whether it is in battle or under natural circumstances. He was prepared for the worst and he was prepared to do it alone. A solider running onto the battle field without back up. But he was much more than that. He _was _a prince. She would be there, on the side lines. She had hope in him, now that everything was so clear. She certainly felt a little sad for the fact that he wasn't concerned about her or the planet she lived on, but until a few years ago, she didn't know this prince existed and maybe she should just sit back and watch from afar, whilst he achieves what he came here to achieve.

There was no way in hell that she would put herself out any more than she usually did, or that she would become a skivvy, but she would assist him. Starting with upgrading the GR machine. It didn't matter what happened to him because he knew what he was doing and he'd cope by himself.

Vegeta continued to gaze at Bulma, waiting for her to respond.

"Ok." She said. "I'll upgrade the GR as soon as I can, but don't complain to me when you break your spine and are stuck in a wheel chair for the rest of your life." She walked over to her bed and climbed in, realising that it was three in the morning. Time for sleep, not talk.

Vegetas mouth hung open for a little while as he stood completely perplexed by her behaviour. Acceptance was what he saw. Again, his stomach did that unusual flipping sensation and he felt warmth in his chest as he watched her climbing in to bed. There was a new ground set between the two of them, almost like that of a bond, a level to which they stood equally.

"Vegeta." She cut his thought process short.

"Hn?" he voiced.

"This morning…I didn't say I liked Goku. But someone else. Someone a bit closer to home, my home I mean. I'll let you figure it out." She smiled before rolling over, "Goodnight Vegeta."

He stiffened for a second, overwhelmed with an alien feeling. He huffed and exited the room, switching the light off on his way out. He thought about her words and wasn't entirely surprised that she had admitted them to him, but he would never retaliate such obscenities. Not a chance. His body quivered as he thought about Bulma. Bulma. Yes, a name he would always remember. She wasn't _so _bad and he was overjoyed by the fact that she wasn't in love with Kakarot, but _maybe_ she had similar feelings for _him._

"Ha!" He said aloud, before reaching his own bedroom and promptly opening the door.


	17. Dusted

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 17  
><span>Dusted<span>

* * *

><p>It had only taken Bulma since 7am until 5:30pm, to finish up with the mentally strenuous task of upgrading the GR, so that it could now withstand the pressure of 1000G. Dr Briefs provided a helping hand of course, but she was the master mind behind the task and boy, did she know it. It needed a few test runs, so she'd built a few decoy bots, in order to determine what sort of metal or substance could hold out under such pressure, and to her absolute horror, the titanium decoy cracked and caved, but the Inconel bot managed to stay on its feet. But what type of flesh and bone creature could compare to one of the strongest metals in the universe? The thought paralyzed her. The thought of Vegeta crumbling to nothing but dust particles. Only he would be able to demonstrate the effects fully, and he could clearly hack 940G. What's another 60G?<p>

She handed a wrench over to her dad, took a long look at her oily palms and grinned. "Well, that's that. For now, anyway. Now, where is Vegeta? I need to see if he can train ok under this much pressure." She removed her lab jacket, threw it over her shoulder, ready to walk out, when the humble tone of her fathers' voice stopped her from continuing.

"Vegeta went out some time ago, if I'm not mistaken." He said, while taking a drag of his cigarette.

Quite disappointed, Bulma scoffed and dropped her shoulders, as if all her time had been eaten away for the sake of nothing. Fixing that machine for him, as enjoyable as it was, was still difficult and extremely time consuming, and she'd half expected him to be hanging around the door, ready to test the force of her outstanding intelligence. But, no. He'd gone. God knows where. Since when did Vegeta just go out, anyway? Bulma couldn't forget his errant ways, but whether he was a stubborn Saiyan prince or not, her work deserved a little bit of thanks. It hadn't slipped her mind, what she said to Vegeta the night before, and how he reacted, or rather, didn't react at all. Clearly the easiest option for him was to avoid her at all costs and there was nothing unusual about that, but where would he go when all his reclusive components were right here. All he had to do was lock himself away in a space capsule. Going out for the day was just insulting. Did he really have to leave the compound? Was she _that _bad? All she had suggested was her tiny crush on the guy. Ok, maybe it was a bit larger than tiny, quite big in fact, but she hadn't blabbed it or declared it, she feigned her lack of enthusiasm rather well.

"Did he say where he was going?" she hated herself for caring.

"He _said _he was going for a walk or something of the sort and he wasn't dressed in his usual tight clothing." Dr Briefs had noticed the lack of breathing space in Vegetas clothing as well, "The boy actually looked quite…normal, yes that's the right word." He nodded, quite satisfied, spinning the wrench in his hand.

"Yeah right. Vegeta going for a walk…" she laughed.

"That's what he said, Bulma." Dr Briefs concluded, before stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray beside him and exiting the room.

Although he admired his daughter greatly, Dr Briefs had very little interest in _her_ clear interest in the Saiyan prince. He didn't dislike the boy, but he just assumed Bulma would find someone who was on par with herself, not a remorseless Saiyan who had a conspicuous lust for murder still glimmering in his eyes. But maybe he hadn't given Vegeta enough time, or more likely, Vegeta hadn't give _him _any time, and Bulma was the only person who had spent a bit of time with him, so maybe she could see something that, to the untrained eye, was impossible for anyone else to capture.

While scrubbing her hands under the warm water, Bulma descended into the burdening thoughts that ruled over her mind. She watched out the window, seeing the sun, still glowing over the lawn and reflecting off the buildings in West City. From her home, she could see almost the entire city and she wondered if Vegeta was closer than she expected, trudging through the town and glowering at every soul which approached him. He stood out like a sore thumb; it was definitely the hair and his very prominent widows' peak. He wouldn't go unnoticed that was for sure. She stifled a laugh when she pictured Vegeta without hair, imagining how peculiar he would look bald. These imprudent thoughts were proving to encapsulate her mind recently, but something else was pressing into her head. Hunger.

Her stomach had been gargling, almost like that of an earthquake, for hours, foraging for a decent meal, but Bunny hadn't been around to prepare any food so she hadn't thought twice about preparing any herself. Especially with the lack of a certain demanding Saiyan, food simply hadn't presented itself as a necessity. But now was a different situation entirely. Now she had completed her work on the GR and had the entire evening free. Bulma craved a particular taste, a taste which was unbeatable and undeniably delectable to anyone. She wanted KFC, but really couldn't produce the energy to go out and buy it, plus, eating KFC alone was pretty depressing.

She dried her hands on a towel and gazed around the empty kitchen, looking for an answer or sign to appear out of thin air. Possibly the worst thought occurred, but she decided to go with it regardless of the consequences and she had, more or less, settled any unwanted or unmanageable feelings between him. She flew over to the phone and dialled, while grinding her teeth impatiently at the ring tone. That's when he answered, "Hi Yamcha!"

"Oh hey, Bulma."

* * *

><p>Selfish? Possibly.<p>

The meal had arrived and so did Yamcha. Taking things carefully, Bulma drew Yamcha in to the sitting room, complete with the action film 'Taken', glowing on the screen. Bulma knew that any type of onscreen 'action', sex or fighting, would distract Yamcha from any underlying issues playing on his mind. And that certain film might have been his favourite, so he more than excitedly plopped himself down on the sofa.

They hadn't hung out together in a while, without the tension anyway, and this could be just the right push into a stable friendship. She did miss Yamcha, but more so for his friendship than anything else.

Comfortably, Bulma mirrored his actions and sat down beside him, a plate piled with boneless chicken strips, chips and coleslaw. She was quite content at that present moment, behind her mountain of food. The lights were dimmed and the T.V was flickering, everything about the evening was suggesting more than friendship, yet the two of them talked, laughed and even snorted, as if all of it meant nothing more.

Yamcha wolfed an entire bargain bucket, plus most of Bulmas chips and she chided him for not gaining a single pound, knowing that she would have to plough the gym if she ate as much as him. The reality would probably see no difference in her figure, but she had her insecurities as well. Before her teenage years, she was quite the porker and with so much money in her midst, the possibilities were endless, as were the cakes, the pies and the burgers. That soon changed when she discovered her passion in inventing, her time simply became consumed with equations and machinery, rather than what to scarf next. That's the way it had been for years, it had become a habit.

She chomped on the last of her chicken strips and reclined in to the sofa, suffocating with satisfaction and letting the buttons on her jeans pop open just enough to let her breath again. Liam Neeson was currently throwing himself in and out of windows, the sight was provoking a sneer from both Bulma and Yamcha, as the thought of doing such actions, as stuffed as they were, made them feel incredibly ill.

Yamcha looked over at Bulma, after throwing his empty KFC bucket on the floor. "So, where's Vegeta?" he spoke casually.

Bulma felt an acid reflux bubbling in her stomach and a slight case of heartburn emerging, but she lifted her upper body and rested her elbows on her thighs, ready to contend with the array of questions from Yamcha. The thought of Vegeta hadn't crossed her mind for several hours and she hadn't felt happier, or maybe she was just satisfied without the remarks and demands. "I don't know…My dad said he went for a walk. I suppose he could be anywhere." She feigned a laugh.

Yamcha watched Bulma, seeing her relaxed and stress free. Her hair wasn't a strand out of place and her face was full of colour, possibly due to the KFC, but without Vegeta she seemed calm. "I thought you didn't look as stressed out!" he said, earning a glare from Bulma.

"Don't be stupid. I wouldn't stress over Vegeta. I just let him do his thing, y'know." The lie was blatantly obvious, even to Yamcha, who cocked an eyebrow at her response.

"But you've been fixing the GR _all _day, right?"

She had. But not entirely for the sake of Vegeta. Fixing the GR gave her something to do, since everyone else was preoccupied training or looking after their loved ones. It was painfully apparent that Bulma didn't have much to do anymore, she didn't have any children or a husband, true, she had her parents, but the sad reality was that she was pushing through her thirties and was dithering around with her time; foolishly faltering over her better intentions by helping a man who wasn't giving her any recognition in return. "True…But I love recreating and upgrading my own inventions…It's more of a hobby than a chore."

Yamcha was seeing the changes in Bulma and because he didn't see her as often as he used to, the differences were noticeable. He knew she didn't go out as much and see friends, _he_ was always available, as were Chichi, Krillin, Tien, and the rest of the Z fighters, yet she never arranged anything or called anyone up. He didn't know what had gotten into her head lately, but even Chichi suggested the same thing. Sure, they could call _her _but it was unusual for Bulma to not do so herself, so everyone only assumed she was up to her eyeballs with new inventions and designs. Judging by her lackadaisical attitude lately, he wasn't so sure that the rumours were true.

"Yeah, you're right…Hey this is the best part!" he pointed at the screen, in the hopes to distract her mind from whatever it was that was hindering her.

Liam Neeson had stealthily approached an armed man, and snapped his neck with one swift movement. The crack of the bone made Bulma feel queasy and irate, the look of adoration on Yamchas face said it all really. Men were idiots.

"Ow." She flinched at the slaughter on screen, sympathising for the poor terrorist. "What's with the obsession in inflicting pain?"

Yamcha gawped at Bulma, shocked that _she _of all people, she who had witnessed so many battles and fights, would ask such a stupid question. "Hey. He's Liam Neeson. He can do what he likes. The guys' a legend!"

"You know he isn't doing even half of those stunts." She stated coolly, destroying any of Yamchas future dreams of following in the actors footsteps.

"Yeah. But it's a movie…don't ruin the illusion, Bulma!" he chuckled

"I can't help it!" she laughed, while picking a stray chip off her plate.

There wasn't one movie (apart from Disney, of course) where she hadn't questioned the probabilities, the outcomes and how unrealistic the action sequences were, for human standards anyway. Superman wasn't worth watching, nor was Spiderman or Batman because they were all just frauds. They were slandering the name of those who did possess extraordinary powers and since the tender age of sixteen, she had become more and more aware of how stupid and unbelievable the film industry was becoming. The same couldn't be said for Yamcha, though, with his face almost pressed against the T.V screen.

She was brought out of her daydreaming by a monstrous burp, coming from Yamcha. The earth practically quaked from the gassy explosion and Bulma was propelled forward with shock. Yamcha, on the other hand, rubbed his belly and smiled triumphantly from his apparent peak of manliness.

"Urgh! Couldn't you have held that in?" She pinched her nose as the smell of acidic chicken lingered in the air.

"Not really! Better out than in." he grinned.

Bulma didn't know what was worse. The fact that the room stunk or the realisation that Yamcha had burped right in her face, something which he wouldn't have ever dreamed doing when they were dating. If his body uttered any sounds other than words, she would have caused him a significant deal of pain. Now he was just going ahead and doing it right in her breathing space. Something about it was disheartening.

"Just because we're not going out any more, doesn't mean you can go ahead and burp in my face!" she crossed her arms and slumped back in to the sofa.

"Ok ok. God…Women." He rolled his eyes and laughed.

Bulma instinctively threw a hefty dig, getting him right in the arm. Sexist remarks weren't tolerated.

Their focus shortly returned to the action on screen, before Yamcha began to chuckle quietly to himself. Trying to ignore him was frivolous, so Bulma cocked her head towards him and prompted him to share whatever it was that was jiggling his gullet so much.

"What's so funny?" she asked warily, edgy from his psychotic behaviour.

"Oh, nothing." He trapped his laughter with the palm of his hand.

"Nothing, hm? _Nothing _seems pretty funny to me." She huffed, now deeply intrigued and slightly worried by his endless chuckling.

"Just some joke Roshi told me."

She should have known. "Oh great…It must be _hilarious_."

He threw his arms behind his head, posing with a smug grin on his face. "It _is _pretty funny, B. You wanna hear it?" he shot a look at her.

"I don't know…Do I?" she asked sheepishly, awaiting something vulgar and crude.

He leaned towards her. "Ok, here it goes…"

She leaned back, bracing herself.

"…What do women and KFC have in common?" he grinned and suppressed another outburst.

Bulma sighed. _Great, another woman joke. _She should have seen it coming. "Ok, I'm not sure I want to hear this…" she waved her hand dismissively.

"Tender thighs…" He continued.

"Ok, you're just going to carry on anyway. That's' fine." She chided.

"Succulent breasts…"

She rolled her eyes.

"And a greasy box to put your bone in!" he keeled over with laughter.

Bulmas eyes widened with repulsion. Only Roshi would spit shit like that, now he had Yamcha doing it as well. He was a terrible influence.

Yamcha leaned in to her, elbowing her and trying to raise a positive reaction, but the look on her face was priceless, making him laugh further. "Y'know…your _bone!" _he continued to chortle, while comfortably leaning into Bulma, who in turn, didn't think anything of it, she was still concerned about the thoughts that ran through Master Roshis' head, and what provoked that sort of metaphor for a woman's privates.

She ultimately shook her head in disgust and released a small, breathy laugh, giving Yamcha what he wanted and they were both caught off guard by a husky voice coming from the doorway.

"That was the worst joke I've ever heard. Frieza has told more humorous stories than you!" Vegeta laughed, leaning against the door frame.

Yamcha sat up and away from Bulma, ceased his laughter and scrutinised the laughably small warrior. "Better than anything you could come up with…" he breathed.

"Why would I want to waste my time trying to make you laugh…I could just tell you to look in the mirror." He spat viciously.

"Yeah. Ha ha. That one's old, man." Yamcha said, unimpressed and a little bit tense.

First, Bulma noticed that Vegeta was wearing a yellow sweater and beige pants, and only he could have pulled it off. And second, she was pissed that he had decided to swoop in and start throwing insults at Yamcha, who stunningly, had proved to be a great house guest.

"Nice of you to show up." She sat up from the sofa and stared at his clothing.

"I was hungry. Now where's my food?"

"I don't know. I don't think there's any left for you." She smirked.

"What?" he stepped foot inside the room, earning an involuntary flinch from Yamcha.

The nerve of Vegeta to come flouncing in and demanding food! She should have been used to this by now, but after his disappearing act, she didn't have the time or patience to deal with his flagrant attitude.

She stood up.

"Well, you haven't been here all day! What am I supposed to do? Wait in the kitchen for your return, your highness? You can think again, Vegeta!" she pointed a threatening finger towards him.

"That's exactly what I expect from you." he said nonchalantly, while throwing a quick sneer at Yamcha, who was gawping at the two of them.

Vegeta knew that by fuelling her rage, he would succeed in deterring her from the damn weakling. God knows what _he_ was doing here.

"Uh…" Yamcha interjected but received nothing more than a hand of warning from Bulma.

"No…Wake up, Vegeta. My mom is the only person who waits on you hand and foot. Don't expect the same from anyone else…She only does it because, and for some reason, she feels sorry for you." She began to feel flustered. All her emotions were rolling into one snide remark from Vegeta. She felt quite ashamed.

Yamcha stood up and both Vegeta and Bulma turned to glare at him. To Yamcha, it felt like he just walked into World War 3, or worse, Gokus house and it was way to too much for him to handle. "I think I'm gunna head home, Bulma. This is too intense." He laughed nervously.

Bulma nodded, knowing how uncomfortable he must be feeling. "Ok, Yamcha. I'll see you out." She said and walked out towards the front door, shooting daggers at Vegeta on her way out.

Once she reached the front door, she exploded with rage, provoking a small shriek of terror from Yamcha.

"What a jerk!"

"You shouldn't let him get to you." Yamcha sighed, finally realising the reason behind why Bulma was behaving differently. Vegeta.

"I know." She exhaled slowly and placed her arms out in front of her, letting the cool night air flow over her scorching skin. "I'm fine. This has been fun, really." She smiled and looked over at Yamcha.

"Yeah. We'll do it again, real soon. But I gotta' start focusing on my training."

Bulma didn't want to hear this. She rolled her eyes, through exhaustion of the overly used words 'focus' and 'train' and because she was mentally drained.

Yamcha watched, perplexed and disoriented by the barely minimal concern she was displaying. "You're not afraid?" he asked, shocked.

"Yeah, I guess so. But we can't just stop it happening, right? May as well just live like normal, for now anyway. I'm not _waiting _for these androids to turn up. I have better things to do."

"I suppose that's what we should all do, huh." He mulled over her words for a moment, admiring how she was able to keep a steady head, despite knowing that in less than two years' time, two androids could potentially destroy everything and everyone. She obviously had a lot more faith than he did and a better source. He just hoped that he could prove himself useful, no matter how much doubt he had in himself.

She shrugged, "Do whatever you think is better for you." Followed by a soft smile.

"See you 'round, Bulma"

"Bye Yamcha."

They merely waved and departed from one another, no tension, no hatred or hidden feelings, just friendship.

The sound of Yamchas car grumbled into the distance and Bulma took a couple of minutes outside to cool herself down and ultimately prepare herself for the battle awaiting her in the sitting room. If he was still hanging around that is. For all she knew, he'd probably hitch hiked it out of there already, not even taking one glimpse at the upgrade she had completed.

On the way through to the sitting room, she trudged to the oven and whipped out a large variety bucket, which she had foolishly told Yamcha to order in case Vegeta turned up. She knew she shouldn't have, but anything to satiate this Princes insolence...

She entered the room to find him watching the finishing sequence of 'Taken', quite intently. She stood directly in front of him, obstructing his vision, and threw the bucket into his lap.

"Happy?" she stated, her hands firmly on her hips.

He stared at the red, cardboard bucket and whiffed the delicious aroma which it was emitting. "What is this?"

"Read the box, idiot."

Vegeta took in the details of the bucket, the giant letters, KFC and the very distinctive face of that lecherous old man, with whom Bulma knew.

"Why is this perverted moron on the container?" He pointed at colonel Sanders, who he assumed was Master Roshi and frowned, reading into his trademark grin and hungry eyes.

"Who?" Bulma looked at what he was pointing at and had to force back a fit of laughter, which she did quite well. "Roshi?" she swallowed a ball of giggles.

"That's him." He prodded the face on the bucket.

Suddenly, Bulma had forgotten why she was mad at Vegeta. The little bit of naivety and softness he would show was overwhelming because she knew that she was the only person who would ever become subject to this unusual behaviour. It was sweet.

"Didn't you know?" she gasped. "He's got the secret recipe."

"From 1940?" Vegeta read from the box, concluding that that would make Master roshi incredibly old, as he would have been at least in his twenties to be able to establish a brand or business of his own.

Bulma rolled her eyes again. "Yeah. He's like immortal or something. Believe me, I've known the guy since I was sixteen and he was old even then…He hasn't changed at all." She began to think over it herself, because as far as she knew, Roshi was human. What was his secret?

Vegeta took a cautious bite of a chicken leg, determining that it was very delicious indeed and proceeded in stripping the meat from the bone. Something about his actions stirred another fluster over Bulma, but it was a good fluster, yet she felt quite wary of why she found it enticing.

"Hmph." Was Vegetas way of saying 'Actually, this is rather nice, thank you Bulma.' That's how she interpreted it anyway.

"I bet if you ask him _really _politely, he'd tell you the secret…" She winked.

He pulled his eyes away from the chicken, to become face to face with Bulmas waist, he frowned at why she was wearing jeans and not the usual very short shorts he was fond of, but soon managed to fix his stare upon her face.

"I don't want to know any of that mans' secrets." His brows furrowed deeper and he plunged into the bottom of the box.

"Hm. Yeah, he is a creep." She pondered deeply, remembering all the times he'd 'copped a feel' of her arse or conveniently slipped, cupping her breasts in the process. She shuddered. "To think, that jerk taught Goku most his moves!" she laughed unbelievably.

The piece of chicken breast dropped out of Vegetas mouth, landing back into the bucket. "How is that possible?" Kakarot being taught by that molesting monster? Yet Kakarot is nothing like him.

"Master Roshi is a mystery…Let's just leave it at that…" she said, while heading towards the door, leaving Vegeta to contend with himself.

"Is the upgrade complete?" He quickly added, before she could leave.

"Maybe." She smiled against her words.

"Well is it or isn't it?"

"Go and find out yourself."

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"Because I like seeing you angry." She grinned.

He grimaced.

"You look really cute when you get all mad and flustered." She continued.

"Cute? Ach…"

"Yeah, exactly like that!" She pointed and made her way back towards him, plonking herself down beside him.

She took the chance to get a good look at his clothing, recognising the items her mother had purchased from the Armani store across town. It suited him well. "You're wearing clothes today. Well done."

He stiffened and edged away from her slightly. The familiar and alluring fragrance was grazing his senses once again, but he was determined to steer clear from this woman. He had faced far too much humiliation already.

"Well done for pointing the obvious." He said, his words as cold as his look.

"Hmm…" she mused, gazing at him.

"What?" he said, trying to resume eating.

"Nothing." She looked away.

"Hn."

Vegeta began to watch the film on screen, witnessing Liam Neeson, jumping off a bridge and landing on to a boat, subsequently damaging his leg in the process. He is only human after all. Vegeta laughed haughtily, "Who does this idiot think he is? Kakarot?"

"It's Liam Neeson. He can do anything." Bulma adopted the words of wisdom from Yamcha, even though she didn't agree with them.

Vegeta looked perplexed for a moment, "I haven't heard of any 'Liam Neeson'" he uttered.

"Yeah. He's going to help us fight the androids." She giggled.

"Shut up." He retorted, aware of her taking-the-piss out of his lack of earthly knowledge.

"Lighten up." She said softly.

The time felt right to ask, why in God's name was the weakling hanging around her once again? His putrid stink was lingering all over the place and it was focused on her clothes. What had they been up to? Although upon entering, he couldn't sense any heat or arousal, which left him questioning as to why they were jumping all over each other.

"What was the weakling doing here?" his eyes were still fixed on the T.V. screen.

Bulma felt a flush of heat on her cheeks, realising that Vegeta may have been jealous. That was the only explanation, right? "Just hanging out." She said quickly.

"Tell him to go and 'hang out' somewhere else." He scoffed indignantly and chomped on a hand full of popcorn chicken.

"Why should I? Getting jealous again? God, Vegeta. You know I only have eyes for short, arrogant Saiyans…" she watched as the chicken juices dripped down his chin, "…evidently with no manners." She grimaced.

A sudden blush appeared upon Vegetas face, as he remembered _those_ words she spoke, as if the matter was completely insignificant. It was hard to ignore the warm response he felt.

"I'm not short." He stated, trying to override the affection which was growing towards her.

"You are a bit though." She replied.

"No shorter than you." He was beginning to feel antagonised now.

"Hmm…I'm not sure." She teased.

He snapped, throwing the empty bucket across the room, which collided with Yamchas empty the bucket. The room was a mess. "It doesn't matter how tall I am. The only thing that matters is how…" He was cut off.

"How _long_ you are. Of course, I agree."

Repulsed by her vulgar remark, he inched away from her, unsure whether or not she would attack him or not. "How long? What?"

"You know what I mean." She waved a hand casually. Teasing Vegeta was always entertaining, whether she meant it or not.

"It must be something disgusting, coming from you."

"You said it!" She laughed haughtily.

He blushed a deeper shade of red and reclined further into the sofa. Again, he wondered why someone so beautiful could be so damn disgusting? "My _length _is very exceptional and none of your concern, disgusting woman." He crossed his arms.

"Now that you mention it…It was pretty impressive, but I was a little drunk, so my memory is hazy. I might need a reminder." She glanced at his crotch, which was disappointingly, not as exposed as usual. She mentally cursed her mother for providing him with baggy clothing.

"Ha! What makes you think you're worthy of witnessing what I have?" he knew she was a little bit worthy and he would _happily_ give her what he has.

"I'm worthy? You should feel privileged a girl as gorgeous as me is even considering having a look at your little man." She snickered.

"Little man?" he winced.

Bulma flicked her hair back, wafting her heated scent in his direction, tipping him closer towards surrender and defeat.

"Well, my memory is getting worse…I can't remember seeing anything _huge_…"

"Woman." He sighed through his nostrils, "You haven't seen _anything_."

It had been a while since _that _encounter and he had tried excruciatingly hard to remove that episode from his mind. She just had to bring it up, as if it was some big joke.

"But I will?" she said enthusiastically.

"That's not what I said."

"But you're thinking about it, right?"

"No." he huffed.

The atmosphere was far from relaxing, both bodies tensing under the glowing light from the T.V set, Vegeta avoiding any form of eye contact and Bulma leaning towards him, provocatively twizzling a lock of her hair. It was similar to that of a first date, a first date between a human and alien, that is. Although Bulma had gone beyond caring or inflicting humiliation and she wasn't particularly concerned about whether or not she threw herself at him, because deep, dwelling in her mind, she knew she liked Vegeta, so sleeping with him was no more judicious than when she slept with Yamcha. Now she had learnt she didn't regret doing a single thing in her life, Yamcha being one of them.

There was no denying that feelings were being reciprocated, the electric notions bouncing back and forth, it was all too obvious, and written on Vegetas stubborn little grill.

"It's only natural to think about me, Vegeta…I know you do."

He sighed at her words, but needed to keep his cold façade, for his own sake. "What makes you assume that?"

She laughed, "Don't play dumb. Why else would you try it on with me? And you were so persistent."

"Carelessness." He cranked his head to display a nasty smirk.

"Yeah, ok." She said, unimpressed.

By now, Bulma was a fair distance from Vegeta, almost giving up, her libido shrinking as well as her confidence. How can one man be so stubborn?

"Is this interrogation over?" he said, while the credits began to roll on the T.V.

Biting the bullet takes a lot of guts and a lot of guts is what Bulma possessed, but Vegeta, he was too complicated and ridiculously impossible to deal with. She knew he was an honourable warrior, but what was it about her that he just couldn't take to? She wouldn't attach herself to him, nor would she want much attention from him, she just wanted to try one think and reassure herself. As selfish as it sounded, she needed the closeness from someone and even though Vegeta was a royal pain, his attitude was infectious and she became irrevocably drawn into his complicated nightmare.

She stood up, this time with determination in her step.

"Call it whatever. You're lucky someone _does _care for you at all, jerk."

"Oh sure. Really lucky."

She straightened up, "Ok, I'm bored of this now. Good bye, Vegeta." She spun around and gallantly left the room.

Vegeta merely huffed and stared at the blank screen before him. It was hard to shy away from ones desires, especially when what he desired was flaunting herself in his face so often. He was certainly touched and slightly turned on, but more so touched. To be truthful, he just didn't know how to handle the situation, not that there was a 'situation' as such, but he had never had feelings for any other being before.

* * *

><p>It had been an hour since Bulma had supposedly gone to bed. An hour of tossing, twisting bed sheets, flexing her fingers and huffing to perfection. She had heard the GR start up and felt happy that he had gone to test her work, but it was one in the morning and it was as if he was just using the machine as a way out, unsurprisingly. To escape her. But maybe that was just how she saw it.<p>

The covers came flying off and Bulma shuffled around, into a more comfortable position. With all the distractions of the crisping bed sheets, she failed to hear the GR shut down and was quickly shocked to notice a loud thumping up the stairs. Instinct told her to freeze, which she instinctively followed, as she felt his presence looming towards her, like he was trying to go unnoticed. The jerk. She wasn't desperate, God.

Just below the door, a shaft of light was peeping in through the corridor, allowing her to catch sight of any passers-by or, in the worst case scenario, any burglars. She lay stiff on the bed, watching the tiny gap, noticing how Vegeta had yet to walk past her door, meaning he was still hanging around in the corridor. This frightened her. That's when a lump of a shadow appeared, directly in the centre of the light space. She flinched and watched carefully, wondering why he didn't just enter. She wouldn't stop him. She had to bite her lip to stop her from calling him in; she could almost hear his breathing, slow and steady, yet cold and emotionless. What was he intending to do? Then she sat up on the edge of her bed, anticipating the golden moment. He was still there and she could hear his hand covering the door handle, but still nothing.

Then he left, just like that. Gone.

Bulma finally allowed herself to breath and loosened her shoulders and unclenched her teeth. Her excitement was very apparent, her palms sweaty and her underwear damp, only expecting what was expected. He had a control over her which was indescribable, just his presence lifted her from the earth. Was it adoration? Or was it simply lust?

She threw herself back on to her bed. Vegeta must have known she was awake and quite heated in fact, so why he walked away must have been a conflicting mental struggle, like the devil and angel on either shoulder. Was she the devil? There was only a certain amount of time someone could wait patiently for the other to make up their mind. It had been a year. At least she knew now, that he _did _want her. There shouldn't be anything else in the way.


	18. Something Old

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 18  
><span>Something old<span>

* * *

><p>He'd been gone for a while now. A week, in fact. Bulma had mustered up the ambition to fix the damage he had made and now the GR was back to its full function. While Goku and Gohan used the empty GR to their full advantage, Bulma shuffled her lethargic self, from being confined to the lab all day, trying to figure out an <em>effective <em>over lock system for the GR; seeing as the one she fixed into the outer controls clearly malfunctioned. Sitting in an office chair for four hours doesn't quite quench the thirst for excitement, but it did open her mind, allowing her to think straight, away from the chaos which was practically a couple metres away from her sitting.

Seven days ago, in the early hours of the morning, a violent vibration awoke Bulma and her parents. Groggily, she stumbled down the stairs to be confronted by a large gust of black smoke, fuming from the GR and engulfing the entire passageway. Thankfully, the majority of the night staff were already hosing the fire down and attempting to salvage the wreckage, but before Bulma could confirm the damage to her creation, she felt the urgent need to run outside. She panicked and ran out into the rain, in pitch darkness, sliding on the wet grass and grasping onto the nearest wall. When she'd finally regained her balance and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see him, standing idly before her, the once spikey hair drooping slightly at the tip. As she took in his form, noticing the charred skin, limp arm, torn clothes and blood smudges, dribbling in the rain, she focused upon his eyes. His eyes glaring back at her or through her, but before she could collect a vocal response, he took off; damaged.

Since then, she'd been through a roll of emotions. First she was frightened, then she was miserable, then she was angry and now she couldn't give a shit about him or his temper. So far, she had adjusted the GR to fit the needs of Goku and Gohan, so if Vegeta _did_ decide to return, he would have to learn to share. Although she didn't know whether she would be so welcoming, this time. Not after the chaos he had caused. It was hard to tell what had driven him to provoke such an explosion, but a lump of guilt sat in Bulmas throat at the thought that maybe he _couldn't_ handle 1000G, after all. Therefore she was partly responsible for the wreckage. Whatever had happened to him, it must have eaten a huge chunk out of his pride; forcing him to leave for the umpteenth time to date.

It was 5pm and Bulma was busy tinkering with a circuit board, inflicting several electric shocks upon herself in the process. She didn't know what she was trying to achieve by doing said task, but the shocks were quite invigorating and stimulating for the brain; so she carried on regardless of the pain.

Dr Briefs quickly entered the room, sending Bulma forwards on her chair; almost face first in to the work bench. She hunched her shoulders as he paced towards the back of the room to begin dabbling with his own inventions and calculations and without a single word, he began to tap away on the keys of a computer; completely engrossed in the numerous equations flashing on the screen. Befuddled, Bulma spun back around and began twisting a loose nut on the panel, losing her train of thought once again. The lab doors swung open for a second time, this time a gleaming Bunny strolled through with a glass of lemonade in her had.

Bulma scrutinized the overly ecstatic grin, complete with the blue gown and blue heels which she seemed to be sporting on this special occasion. She stopped before Bulma and handed her the glass of lemonade, which she took cautiously.

"Here you are, Bulma dear." She chirped, clasping her hands together tightly.

Bulma sipped the cool liquid and watched her mother from beneath the rim of the glass, carefully monitoring her every move. Bunny on the other hand, remained oblivious to the close observation and continued boldly. "Vegeta is home!"

A combination of the high pitch squeal and the fact pronounced, pushed Bulma to project a mouthful of lemonade onto her mothers' dress, to which Bunny simply frowned for a moment before patting down the wet patch and smiling again.

"He's in his room…Been there _all_ day. Just sitting there." Bunny continued.

Hurt was what come first. All the emotions were drifting back. Vegeta had come back and didn't even show himself, not even to demand on insult her. He just went to his room? What a disrespectful piece of shit. Bulma gawped and had to force her mouth shut with her hands, before calmly opening it again to speak. "Have you been to see him?" she said in a cold voice.

"You're worried about him." Bunny said almost too quickly.

"Of course I am." Bulma replied almost quicker.

"Go and see him."

"No."

"I think he'd like to see you." Bunny chimed.

What little bit of patience Bulma had left, was dwindling away quickly and all she could do was cock an eyebrow at her clearly dazed mother. Whatever Bunny had been drinking or eating today, had gone straight to her brain, sending her into a delusional frenzy, but Bulma didn't want to hear it. In Bunnys' world, Bulma and Vegeta were made for each other, brought together by some unknown entity or fate, as some would call it. Therefore she was trying everything to try and pull them together, but unfortunately she had it completely wrong because she either didn't know her own daughter or she simply didn't know Vegeta. But who did know Vegeta? Even Bulma didn't know Vegeta. There was a lot he wasn't telling her and she had accepted that, but why couldn't he accept that he was welcomed on this planet and that a few people cared about him. Yes, a few, but it was enough.

Bulma refocused her attention on the knotted circuit board and tried to untie the mess she had created; waving Bunny off at the same time. "Mom. Please. I'm busy."

"This is all just part of being in a relationship." Bunny said triumphantly, causing both Bulma and Dr Briefs to flinch slightly.

It was clear now. Bunny was deranged. Bulma dropped the circuit board and stared at her mother, before laughing loudly. "What relationship?" she challenged.

"I've seen the way you two look at each other. And if I know love…" she was interrupted by a snort from Bulma.

"Ok. I'm gunna stop you there. One, me and Vegeta…No, there is no me and Vegeta, period. Two if there was anything, it definitely wouldn't be love." Bulma almost choked on her own laughter. Despite growing aware of how insane she looked and how obvious it may have seemed.

"I've been married to your father for 30 years." Bunny continued.

"Thirty _one_ years." Dr Briefs interjected from across the room; his back turned and still tapping away on the computer.

"Yes… I know what I see Bulma." Bunny said, near enough a little bit annoyed as she opened her eyes to look at her daughter.

Bunny then noticed Bulma fully. Catching on to the grey bags under her eyes, the mop of hair on her head and the grubby lab coat and black sweat pants combo. What a mess. She frowned for a second, disregarding the previous topic and focusing on the more important matter. So before Bulma could burst a vein, Bunny continued, "Bulma dear, you look awful. Shall I run you a nice hot bath?"

Bulma merely sighed and accepted, hoping it would keep Bunny off her case, which it did as the blonde woman practically skipped out of the room; humming something too upbeat for Bulma to tolerate.

As the lab grew peaceful again and dangerously silent, Bulma felt a hand rest on her shoulder, causing her to freeze slightly, half expecting it to be someone other than her father. But it wasn't.

"I think you ought to have a break, don't you?" Dr Briefs said.

"I've just got to finish doing this. Then I'm done." She said, nearly pleading against her sanity.

"I wasn't asking, Bulma." He retorted.

"You sure?"

"Quite." He wiggled his moustache a tad and looked away from her. "And I think you should go and see how Vegeta is doing. That boy will be the death of your mother if you don't do something about it." And with that, he quickly marched to the other side of the room.

Respecting her father was all she had ever done right and now was not the time to damage that, but even he was losing it? She dropped what she was doing, sighed and exited the lab, walking past the GR room and hearing the consecutive grunts, blasts and laughter from Goku and Gohan. Maybe she should go and speak to Vegeta, but she didn't want to cave. He had disappeared again. Why should she show her concern? That would just be like playing into his hands. If he cared about her at all.

* * *

><p>The coconut oil sank in to her pores, as she immersed deeper into the cloudy bath water, soaking her hair and exhaling all the stress from her mind. Bunny had lined the room with deep glowing cinnamon scented candles, dimmed the lights and set up an incense burner by the sink; assuming that her daughter had gone beyond the point of insanity and desperately needed to relax her mind; it was working perfectly. The house was daringly quiet; she slowly rested her head on the bath pillow, breathing calmly and rhythmically, closing her eyes, absorbing the aromatic fumes in to her tired skin, feeling her face flush with the steam, cleansing and purifying her worn body. There was no room for negativity at that point, no room for thoughts about fixing the GR, no room for images of smoke, crawling down the hall and eating up the house, no room for selfish pompous Saiyans and no room for caring. She had simply, or potentially, cleared her mind, like that of a Buddhist. She admired them and sometimes thought of cultivating her time in to freeing her mind like they did. She knew there was a lot more to it than just that, but that would be a good start and she was always willing to learn and try new things. There were still other aspects of her mind which blocked her relaxing status. She had a far too heavy conscience; always wanting to forgive and be contrite towards those who needed a second chance. This thought merged into another and Vegeta appeared in her mind, once again, claiming a large portion of her sanity and keeping it to himself because there was no way he was going to share. Anyway, for some odd reason, deep down, she believed that he needed a second chance, maybe even a second <em>second <em>chance because, in her eyes, he had never had the choice to choose. He had been subdued by a tyrant, a vicious and overwhelmingly frightening tyrant at that. He had learnt the hard way. What he had learnt was something she couldn't comprehend. He had trained himself to per sue and destroy everything in his path. But he had no choice.

Choice.

Now that he had choice, he couldn't determine the correct role to play, whether it be good natured or that of evil. But he had the choice. It was clear to see that the only battle he was fighting was against himself, but she guessed that because he had always been told who he was by other people, he himself, didn't know who he was, when placed in a world full of hope and freedom. That's how she saw the earth, anyway. Perhaps if he had grown up under normal Saiyan rule he would have turned out differently, but perhaps not; this was all theory and could only be proven through time. Time would determine who Vegeta is or was. She knew who he could be because she had seen it once or twice, just a hint or a glimmer, but it wasn't bad or malicious, which was certain. It was new. Maybe partially selfish, but wasn't everybody entitled to a fraction of self-indulgence?

He was struggling. Struggling on earth. Out of his comfort zone, or what he knew to be his comfort zone. But it had been a year so far and she had barely seen a change from him. Disregarding her own expectations, maybe it would take Vegeta a dozen years or a couple of decades to see that he was able to live the way he wanted and not how he had been conditioned. Would she wait? Would she _wait _for Vegeta?

Possibly the thick fumes, permeating into her blood stream, were rendering her delusional, but she felt a notion in her stomach. A knot, one which she couldn't untie, but pull and tug until her fingers would begin to bruise and bleed. This knot. It was at the centre, consistently sitting within her, all the time. Dormant. The sickening metaphor which was for love. How much time does it take to love someone? Does it take time at all? Or had she always loved him and not known it? Maybe Bunny was right. But she couldn't love _him_. He was far past unusual and bent on a destructive course, mentally and physically. He couldn't control himself. He didn't know when to stop and he never would. Could she sit on the side lines and watch him kill himself? God knows what he had done to himself, but when she saw him, he looked like he had been battered to within an inch of his life and he had done that _himself. _How can she _love_ someone who does that to themselves? The answer, or the voice, was mutely mouthing to her in the back of her mind. The image of herself, signalling her to do what she feels is right. Now, when she envisions her future, she can always see him, not beside her or holding on to her, but somewhere in the far corner of the picture, not hiding, but being unnoticed, to everyone but her.

And maybe Bunny.

Change was a word which could be thrown around so thoughtlessly. Expecting more than what can be expected from someone. Time was the real player in this game. And the time felt right, to go and speak to Vegeta.

* * *

><p>Once dressed and reasonably presentable, her hair ragged into a loose bun, she sat silently on her bed in order to contemplate what it was she was going to say to Vegeta. Whether it is vocal or physical. Maybe both. Being able to listen carefully, her eyes closed and ears open, she could hear the faint utterances and sounds emitting from the T.V. The T.V from Vegetas room. Bunny had said he had been sitting lackadaisically all day. Not even moving to eat, this was completely out of character. Could it be that he was simply waiting for her? She shook her head and laughed quietly to herself. But the hint of doubt didn't deter her from getting up and making her way to his bedroom door; to which she could not remember the journey, only the destination.<p>

She had to constantly remind herself, that if he was in there, he would know that she was hovering outside his door, so doing such a thing was embarrassing and pointless. Within a beat, she twisted the handle, opened the door and saw that the room was dark, other than the light of the T.V., which was flickering onto his lump of a form, sitting upright against the head of the bed and staring at the screen before him. As she took a gentle couple of steps in to his territory, her eyes wondering over the T.V. screen, she saw that he was, strangely, watching documentation about police patrol in the local area. It was sad to realise that he must have just let the same channel to run on, programme after programme and judging by the glazed look in his eyes, he wasn't watching it at all. More fixed than engrossed.

Even though her family had an abundance of money, seeping out of every space in the house, she still valued the environment, so she began to walk over to the T.V., ready to switch it off. He had been watching it all day, which couldn't possibly be helping the eco system. Forget the fact that he could potentially _save _the world from monstrous androids; he was slowly destroying it by watching the Goddamn T.V all day. She was stopped, an inch away from the power button, by a croaky and unstable voice.

"Don't…Touch it." He ordered, followed with a light sigh of disapproval.

"Do you know how much electricity you're wasting by keeping this on all day?" She spouted.

He said nothing.

The only plausible explanation he could accumulate was that the noise from the T.V. stopped any irrational thoughts appearing in his mind. With the constant police sirens whirling around the room, he was unable to think. Unable to think about destroying this planet and saving the androids the trouble, unable to think about the failure he had become and unable to think about Bulma. But now she was here. Testing his limits again. He accepted that he had almost slipped up dangerously by trying to enter her quarters, which evidently sent him on a rampage, pushing his body further than he done before, sending himself into titanium walls and floors, focusing the most intense ki blasts upon himself. Trying to destroy himself without killing himself.

He glanced her way for a second, seeing the doe-like eyes she was sending him. And that is why he had to look away. For her sake, not his.

"Is your arm ok now?" She asked.

He furrowed his brows in response to her concern. He wished she wouldn't care.

"The GR is ok now. But Goku and Gohan are using it so…" She continued stupidly, forgetting once again that he obviously knew that Goku and Gohan were here and using the GR. For a genius, she was pretty dim.

He didn't say anything.

"I won't keep clearing up after you. That's the last time." She gestured a finalisation with her hands and proceeded to cross her arms over her chest; accepting that there was no chance of getting any words out of Vegeta on this particular night.

Then the daring yet alluring thought presented itself. Dissatisfied with her progress, she mentally concluded that Vegeta was unable to communicate his troubles vocally, thus he could possibly demonstrate it physically. She had seen that a fire burned within him when it came to passion, and he could feed that passion through her. She could gain an insight into his mind by how he reacts towards her. And she did want to have sex with him, because the entire year had been like a vortex, focused on torturing her into a year-long dry spell. Totally unacceptable. Plus, due to her very recent discovery, knowing that she wasn't simply in-love with Vegeta, but she in fact _loved _him, or she assumed she did. This act, would merely clarify her own accusations.

She uncrossed her arms and made her way to the edge of his bed, before sitting beside him and staring at the profile of his face. Collecting up his beauty. Without him making any sudden movements or responding to her close proximity, she was able to take in the details of his face, regardless of how dark the room was. One thing she noticed was the tiny silver marks, etched delicately in various places across his face and shoulders, only visible from the glow of the T.V. There was a tiny slither of a scar, lying above his left eyebrow, similar to Harry Potter. She smirked to herself. The more she looked at him, the more she adored him yet she hated him all the same. That was all part of this package. She treated him as damaged goods, but not in the sense that he was irreparable. She saw him as something special, like one of those crazy brooms from Fantasia, that could clean up after themselves. She believed that he could too, clean up after himself. He could repair himself. But needed a whole lot of time to do it.

Besotted, she touched his shoulder and let her hand rest there, before breathing softly. "Vegeta…Look at me." She stated, while trying to focus on her temperature which was slowly rising. If it was overly apparent that she was heating herself up, he may become discouraged and turn her away. She wouldn't accept it.

Gradually, he arched his head in her direction, noting that on this particular night, she was breath-taking. Her smell, her face, her body and her presence was uplifting. But to do what she was prompting, would break their uncertain bond. The bond which neither knew what it stood for. A ground of mutual respect. He cared about her. That he knew to be irreversible. But he cared about what was more important more and at that moment, he didn't really know which was which.

As they both stared at each other, in a moment of confused curiosity, the sound of police sirens and curse words filled the room, gaining an agitated flinch from Bulma. If Bunny were to walk by and hear all the obscenities being thrown around, she would possibly collapse with shock. Bulma was still a little intoxicated from the cinnamon fumes, buried into her nasal cavity, but kissing Vegeta just seemed like the perfect thing to do, so she did.

His response was slow, which made it all the more sensual and passionate; different to the other times they had engaged in a battle of oral dominance. This was patient yet determined. She was able to taste his mouth and pick up on the feel and sensation, the warm wetness of the inside of his bottom lip, the dimples and ridges where he had aggravated the inside of his cheek. There was no stage to the kiss; it was so free and almost musical, that they both became lost in one another. His hands became tangled between knots on the back of her t-shirt and hers lost in his ridiculously thick hair, which was softer than it had ever been. The break from blowing himself up must have done his hair follicles the world of good. She opened one of her eyes to see that his were softly shut and relaxed; just like she had wanted. Therefore relaxing her even more, and upping the tempo by nudging her body closer to his, so that now, her chest was moving against his.

He pulled away from her and she sighed deeply, thinking too hard about what could have been when understanding that Vegeta was who he was and was dreadfully incapable of reciprocating feelings. It had to be of his own accord.

He looked annoyed for a moment, but the trade mark frown, slowly but surely, began to fade, leaving a completely different face before her, one that she had only seen once before, but admired equally. It was hard to deny his beauty. His foreign perfection, complete with his mysterious personality.

He shuffled a bit, and then pushed her down, so that she was lying flat on her back, before placing himself above her, watching down at the bemused expression on her face. He was used to being in control in all aspects of his life. Why would he let one woman change that? Besides, he was Saiyan and she was human, he had an obligation to be above her. From this position he was able to get a good look at her defined figure, which was disappointingly hidden beneath a grotesque, dark pink t-shirt and baggy tracksuit bottoms. He frowned again, realising that she was bringing him back to life and out of his shell. How did she do it? To hide any chance of her reading his expression, he bend down to kiss her again, to which she instantly took the bait and weaved her fingers through his hair once again; she couldn't get enough of it.

There was still a visible distance between them, as he more or less, hung above her uncomfortably, as if worried about the inevitable connection which was drawing closer; they could both feel it. The room got warmer and the air began to feel humid as she pulled his head closer to hers, provoking him to press himself against her. But as if on cue, a loud giggling sounded from the T.V. screen. The giggling of a baby, causing them to both freeze and turn their heads towards the screen, being able to witness a Pampers advert, with the strangest looking toddler, laughing and gurgling because he had wet his pants. She felt Vegetas body tense and watched as he became transfixed by the chubby child; practically mocking him and deterring him from what he wanted most at this point.

Bulma laughed and pulled his head back towards hers, "You don't have to worry about that. I've got it covered." And she forcefully began to kiss him once again.

In reality, she did have it covered, by having the depo provera injection every three months, since she was sixteen, but that only guaranteed safety from human conception. She was smart enough to know that Vegeta wasn't human, but the anatomy was so similar, that she could only assume that it would work just the same. Plus, there was nothing else she could do other than try and force a condom on him. Even though, from past experience, the things proved useless and split half way through the events. So what was she to do, other than play things out? In the fifteen years she had been having the injection, it had proved completely effective, so there were very little doubts in her mind; as cloudy as it was.

The police programme resumed as did their passionate affair. Bulma was tugging his t-shirt in a feeble attempt to take it off, which thankfully he caught on to and removed it himself with one quick whisk of his hand. He may have ripped the thing off but it all happened so quickly that she assumed he was some sort of part time magician or something. Thinking ahead of himself, Vegeta clasped his fingers around the rim of her tracksuit bottoms, urging her to get rid of the damn things before he vomits, and slowly and awkwardly, she inched them down to her ankles before kicking them on to wherever it was they landed. This was when Vegeta felt comfortable enough to lower his body down to hers, connecting their heat together, their sweat building quicker as was the tension.

They had kissed for at least a quarter of an hour, when he gently removed his lips from hers, softly pressing his forehead against hers, panting in exhaustion and contemplating the next move. He hadn't eaten all day so there was a chance he would perform badly, that and, he was undeniably a touch nervous; being in the company of such a precious creature and having her at will.

Bulma was perplexed. They went from frantic making out, to an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, within ten minutes or so. The look on Vegetas face told her that he was unsure about what to do. Had he done this before? She had never thought to ask him. She just guessed he had. Did it matter? Although judging by the wetness of his preseminal fluid, which had been rubbed against her bare thigh, it was fair to say that he was just as ready as she was. But what was stopping him?

A police officer on the T.V. was screaming, presumably to another officer chasing down a criminal, 'Get him' and 'Don't let him get away'; Bulma instantly took this as a sign and nodded mentally. She wouldn't let him get away.

His eyes were tightly shut, like he was in pain and she knew far too well that he was battling himself once again, but she wouldn't give him the time to think, this was going to happen. She wanted him beyond the point of turning back and her body wouldn't let her live it down if she turned away now. So she propped herself up on to her elbows, pushing Vegeta upright, him still having his eyes shut. She kissed him again, pushing him in to a sitting position and allowing herself the room to sit on his lap and straddle him; her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His willingness was extremely obvious as it pressed against her moist centre. They continue to kiss and rock steadily together and impatiently, Bulma removed her t-shirt and bra, becoming more infuriatingly aroused.

Looking at her bare chest, Vegeta inevitably dove in for the bait, kneading her breasts, rubbing up and down vigorously and earning a whimper a discomfort from Bulma; which instinctively sent him higher. As the pace between them quickened, mainly on behalf of Vegeta, her hair became dishevelled, falling out of the elastic and veiling half of her face, but he was in so much of a daze that he did not realise until she stopped him with clear angst in her voice.

"W-wait a sec'." She said, flustered, as she pushed the hair off her face and tied it back up; foolishly expecting it to stay up.

In his current state, now hazy yet clear, he wasn't prepared to wait for anyone, but she was exceptional. The rosy tint in her cheeks and the crystalized look in her eyes, told him that there was more to this than sex, which unsettled him, but he had come to terms with that himself.

Bulma clasped on to her right breast, currently throbbing with pain from Vegetas eagerness, and she winced, gaining a vindictive smirk from Vegeta, who in turn caught her off guard by pushing her down, flat on to the bed again. The nature of their affair had gone from passionate to animalistic as he started biting and nipping at her neck, sending split shocks of pain straight to her head. He was way too rough from her previous experience with Yamcha, but there was something too irresistible about the way he handled her and the pain was certainly enjoyable; she made that clear through her tiny sighs and whimpers of pleasure.

Down her neck, he sent bites, further and further until he stopped at her hip bone, brushing his lips against the frilly material of her underwear, clasping two of his fingers around them and seductively pulling them down. The torturous action caused Bulma to quiver in anticipation, also making her nakedness feel more apparent, when a roll of cold air caressed her frame, giving her goose pimples all over. This feeling, collected with the sweat of desire, was almost nauseating and was driving her insane; until she was fully undressed. Lying beneath him, she was able to see the predator-looking stare he was giving her, as if at any moment he would lick his lips and feast upon the flesh of her neck. She began to shrink lower beneath his gaze, wanting him to feel just as vulnerable as her, so she cunningly tried to rag his shorts down, unfortunately only getting them around his upper thighs, but she could still see perfectly what she had wanted to see; this time the sight nearly catching her breath in her throat.

She hadn't seen many, but it wasn't difficult to tell that this size was exceptionally large, and to remind herself that Vegeta wasn't human. Her eyes widened and she gulped, again, gaining a look of satisfaction from him. The clarification of his virile stature was too overwhelming, compared to their last, very nearly, sexual encounter, she had only seen it in its flaccid state; this was too much to handle.

The knot in her stomach grew tighter, provoking waves of uncertainty and nausea through her body. On the outside she was completely ready, on the inside she was sick, but not sick enough to cease continuation and neither was Vegeta. He flicked off his shorts and sent them flying across the room; his eyes still locked on to hers and being blissfully aware of the twinge of fear in her blood. He didn't intend on scaring her, despite how amusing it was. Oh, how amused he was. He had gained power again, power over this woman, this beautiful woman.

Kakarot and his brats ki had disappeared and once confirming their departure, he was prepared to ravage Bulma and make it so that the experience would be imprinted on her mind for as long as she lived. There was nothing sinister or sadistic about it, but he wanted her know that she was about to engage in fornication with a prince and nothing less.

He quivered with euphoria when he felt her soft hands, delicately caress his sensitive organ, shooting jolts of pleasure up his spine and all over his skin. He closed his eyes and focused on her movement as she quickened the pace, but felt himself bordering his peak, so he grasped her hands to stop and snapped his eyes open, before pinning both her arms to her side and prising her legs open with one of his knees.

One last look was exchanged between the two. Bulma awaited the feel of him, finally inside her, meaning much more than it had ever felt before. While Vegeta searched her eyes for the right to continue, judging by her lack of speech, she was merely anticipating his entrance, so he quickly and rather harshly inserted himself, sending a massive shock of pain through Bulma, forcing her to gasp and whimper quietly into his shoulder. The pain was intense, to which Vegeta understood as he stopped, waiting for her body to adjust, before continuing. Her centre began to throb and burn with pain, but she exhaled slowly and calmly, remembering the cinnamon candles and coconut oil in the bath, and steadily, she started to concentrate on the pleasurable aspect of sex.

With his head buried over her shoulder, he began to thrust gently. Knowing that he had hurt her, he felt a pang of guilt.

They were soon moving against one another, Bulma arching her back so that he was hitting the right spot, which he proving to do well, and she tore his head away from her shoulder, so that she could capture his mouth in another kiss. The movement continued as their lips departed and Vegeta lifted himself, so that he was looming over her, pushing harder and closing his eyes with sheer concentration. Bulma took the opportunity to gaze at where their bodies connected, watching their pelvises join continuously with an almost poetic rhythm. The size difference was almost comical, he was gigantic, like a tank, robust and hard as steel and she was small and nimble. If he wanted to, he could crush her to death by simply lying on top of her with minimal effort, yet the sight of him, closing his eyes, lost in the moment, trying hard not to hurt her, made her feel overwhelmed with adoration. The feelings she was trying to get from him, he was showing them now and it showed her that he did care for her, otherwise it would have been more of a 'wham, bam, thank you mam' scenario.

A tear formed in one of Bulmas eyes, she quickly wiped it away knowing that if Vegeta saw it, it would probably ruin the moment for him and he'd hate her, but seeing him and being with him like this was exactly what she wanted and more.

He lifted her up on to his lap, allowing her some control, and she instantly took to it by moving her pelvis back and forth, gorging herself with pleasure and control, her breasts colliding with his chest, rubbing against him and being his. She was his, at that moment anyway. She threw her arms around his neck loosely, lifting her body slightly up from his lap and continuing her rocking motion. The heat between them was becoming unbearable as they became saturated with the others sweat and steam.

Bulma cranked her head towards the T.V., noticing that the two hour police programme had finished, meaning that time was flying by without them being aware. She didn't know what time it was, or even the day for that matter. It was too insignificant to dwell upon. She turned to look at Vegetas face again, seeing he had his eyes closed tightly again, provoking another tear, strangely enough.

It wasn't long before Vegeta threw Bulma on to her back again. Although this time, the floor seemed to be more comfortable for him than the bed. The carpet burned her skin through friction and forceful thrusts from Vegeta; yet she loved it. Despite the various distractions, she felt herself edging towards her peak, releasing quiet moans, trying not to gain any unwanted attention from Bunny or her father, so she bit her lip hard, muffling her moans and ultimately irritating Vegeta. Her sounds of pleasure were beckoning him further to his own climax, so seeing her trying to contain them was insulting. With his own teeth, he tore her lip free, allowing her to scream as she finally reached her peak, her whole body was shuddering and her muscles relaxing in to their awaited bliss. Somehow she had forgotten to care about anyone else in the house, other than Vegeta, who was now pounding harder than ever, not allowing her to rest for a fraction of a second.

With their hearts racing simultaneously, Bulma began to pick up the momentum again, and tried to motion herself to match him, which was currently approximately 100mph. Unusually, she found herself building again, the anticipation tipping her closer to the edge, Vegeta not uttering a single noise but silence, his eyes engrossed in their adjoined pelvises. Maybe he too, was feeling the same emotions as her.

Then he froze. He froze, releasing a gritted grunt, trembling on top of her, his eyes now closed. His elbows gave in and he collapsed on top of her, without force, which she appreciated a great amount. Even though she was close to coming for a second time, she wasn't frustrated, she felt rather exhilarated and as Vegetas warm form lay on top of her, she gathered that he was hers. Maybe hers from a distance, but this was close enough. For now.

* * *

><p>AN – I didn't want to write too much about the sex, because : One - I've not written about it before and was unsure about how to portray it clearly, two - I feel that it's only a small aspect of their relationship (But that's just my wierd opinion, so, hey ho). So, sorry if it all seemed a bit rushed! :p


	19. Something New

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 19  
><span>Something New<span>

* * *

><p>The thick darkness veiled her eyes, revealing nothing other than the sound of deep, heavy and natural breathing from beside her. It took a few minutes for her to recollect their story and judging by the utter darkness, only a few hours had past at most. She fidgeted repeatedly, recognising that she was sprawled out on the carpet and next to her, to her satisfaction, was Vegeta, sleeping soundly, his arm strewn across her naked chest. No, it definitely wasn't a dream. She smiled, then tears formed in her eyes, then she wiped them away and thought it best to leave before Vegetas personality got the best of him again. She squinted and tried to focus upon his, almost lifeless, form, flopped across the floor, provoking a certain emotional disturbance within Bulma; one which she had familiarised and characterised as love. There was no doubt and no turning away from it now. Not now. His head was facing away from her, his skin embedded in to the rough carpet and his arm delicately balanced across her breasts. When she propped herself up onto her elbows, his arm dropped and retracted to above his head, but he was still, surprisingly, asleep. She thought, maybe this would be the first deep sleep he had ever achieved and maybe she was the catalyst for such thing, or maybe not and she should leave promptly.<p>

The red digits flashing on the alarm clock read 5:17 am, meaning that she had been asleep, well, for about six hours; taken that their affair had lasted at least an hour or so, which was acceptable for a first time and she had already affirmed to herself that there would be many, many more times. She stumbled in the darkness, collected her clothes and scrambled, trying to put them back on, all the while Vegeta lay perfectly still on the floor; she could have sworn he was in some sort of sex coma. The thought of waking him up and telling him to go and lie in his bed because, naturally, it would be a hell of a lot comfier, did pop into her mind, but all the while, it was hard to disturb him when he looked so peaceful. But in reality, he was probably already awake and just itching for her to leave, so the balance was quite equal, therefore she found it quite easy to leave him, the man she loved and had just made love to, lying on the floor of his own bedroom. That was an achievement in its' self and said a lot about her sexual prowess; being that she was able to send him in to a deep and satisfying slumber, with minimal effort. Even Bulma surprised Bulma sometimes.

Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the door from creaking and she flinched when she looked back to see Vegeta squirm and roll over to resume sleeping, but thankfully that was all he did. Strange. The many times he had awoken from the sound of a pin dropping, but the loud cracking of a wooden door couldn't deter him from sleep. She mused, watching him as the shaft of light, shining from the hall way, framed his naked glory. He was lying on his stomach so she could only view his back and backside, which, still, she couldn't complain, but she did feel a bit overwhelmed when catching sight of the dark circular patch on his lower back; reminding her that he was an alien. An alien…she had just had sex with an alien. She guessed she and Chichi would have a lot more to talk about, although she hadn't planned on telling anyone. This was about her and Vegeta. No one else.

Bulma forced herself to leave the room and return to her own bedroom. Doing so, half way down the corridor, she could hear someone approaching and instinctively, she panicked, looking for places to hide, but between her and her bedroom was merely a blank corridor. So she sucked in a deep ball of air and awaited the person approaching. Looking down the corridor, she could see quite a lengthy walk, meaning her plan to escape was futile and while thinking this, she was able to see her mother walking towards her. Bulma, with her hair tousled in knots and dry sweat, looked guilty as sin, simply stared at Bunny and judging by her mothers' unrequited glee; it was obvious she knew what had gone on. The least Bulma could do was shrink into herself, under the watchful eye of Bunny, who simply giggled and continued to stride past her, without a backwards glance. Bulmas eyes, filled in askance, followed the pixie footsteps of Bunny, watching and waiting for her to turn round and remember what she had seen, but she didn't and within a few seconds she was out of Bulmas view. A small groan slipped from Bulmas mouth upon reaching her room and she was forced to look back once more, just in case Vegeta had awoke upon sensing Bunnys undeniable irritating presence.

She did wonder what her mother was doing up at said hours of the morning, but Bunny could be just as mysterious as Vegeta and it was best to just leave her be. That is, if she hadn't been earwigging in on their fornications because that would just be beyond unacceptable.

* * *

><p>It was 11:30 that morning, when Bulma decided to show herself in the kitchen. A morning full of complete self –attentiveness, checking for any love bites, claw marks, residue, anything basically. Anything which would give away her secret. <em>Her <em>secret and no one else's'. She had showered and made herself look proper before entering the kitchen and coming face to face with both her mother and Vegeta, Vegeta whome was scarfing his face with a tower of pancakes; courtesy of Bunny, of course.

She stepped in to the kitchen cautiously, taking in the erratic movement from her mother, who was balancing herself between watching the stove and keeping an eye on Vegeta, trying to attend to his every need. A small glance was given to Vegeta, seeing that his eyes were for food at that moment, and nothing else. So Bulma took that as the key to entering the bizarre environment with her head held high. She didn't know what she felt when seeing Vegeta, other than what she already knew, but the butterflies fluttering around her stomach and forcing a sickening churning sensation deep within, was more than enough to tell her that she wanted him to be hers always. Just seeing him stuffing his face, was adorable, but she knew this man was capable of murder, as was she if her mother dare mention anything.

"Morning!" Bunny almost screamed, earning a disapproving grunt from Vegeta. "Would you like some pancakes?" She shoved a plate of hot, syrup glazed pancakes beneath Bulmas nose and she had no choice but to snatch them and take them to the table.

Bunny knew far well what had happened and was over the moon that her daughter had found someone so fitting. He was strong, handsome, mysterious, a hero and so adorable, but he needed someone like Bulma because Bulma was just as strong as he was and all the other things. Was Bunny the only person who could see that? She'd worked hard trying to get those two together. Yamcha was a sweet boy, but nothing in comparison to Vegeta. Vegeta was perfect. Perfect for Bulma and she had seen it from the start. It was only a matter of waiting and waiting she did. Waiting a year! It was worth it, being able to see them now, madly in love and so passionate about each other. She sighed aloud.

Forcefully ignoring her mother, Bulma bit her tongue and sat at the table, sitting opposite Vegeta, who was still, absorbed in his dwindling pile of pancakes. But upon parking herself down, Vegeta ploughed through his remaining bounty and got up from his chair. Bunny began to hum to herself, strolling over and collecting his empty plate and then strolling back over to the far corner of the kitchen before promptly sauntering out; leaving only Bulma and Vegeta.

A flush began to form across Bulmas skin, when she could feel the Saiyan prince standing beside her, as if waiting for her to speak, but she kept her mouth tightly shut and her eyes glued to her food; which now, wasn't as delectable as it seemed before. An awkward silence emerged and Bulma could feel his eyes eating in to the top of her skull and forcing her to flinch under his gaze. So, she swallowed a lump of batter, cranked her head up slightly, just as Vegeta slammed a palm on to the table, sending an electric shock down her spine and provoking a tiny squeak of fear. Immediately, her eyes dropped to the palm, now resting next to her plate and she cocked an eyebrow, before he slowly removed his hand and revealed a rather worn looking elastic, one which she had been wearing last night.

She glanced up at him.

"Don't litter my room with your possessions." He said in a monotone.

"Ok…Thanks…" she uttered, grabbing the elastic and wrapping it around her wrist.

Then she looked at him again, just to see him scowl down at her.

An idea arose and Bulma turned around to check the weather out the window. The sun was beaming through, the trees were flourished with bright green leaves and she could hear the faint sound of lawnmowers, growling in the distance; all the sweet sounds of an approaching summer.

Judging by the state of the elastic, she thought it was time for her to go out and by some more, hoping that many would miraculously disappear in Vegetas room in the near future; she'd best stock up on plenty while she can.

He watched her closely; curious to know what was swimming around her mind. Thoughts of him? Obviously. But she was acting unusually calm and casual around him. It was unsettling. How can someone act so blasé about such a delicate matter? Unless she was waiting for him to say something. But what would he say? Nothing. He supposed there was nothing to say anyway. It seemed that he had partially forgotten about his training; too busy fretting and over complicating things in his mind. Unaware that she wasn't the slightest bit concerned, so much so that she'd turned away from him in a desperate attempt at ignoring his presence. How dare she. He exhaled heavily, succeeding in grabbing her attention and her gaze.

Her unnaturally huge eyes, looking at him adoringly.

Maybe he was wrong. Since last night, he felt that he needed to see her, whether he wanted to or not, but he needed to. It took a lot out of him to not follow her back to her room and take her again. She was his now and it was scraping into his brain, the thought that she might not share the same degree of emotion. He felt ill just admitting to it to himself, but it had to be done because it was unavoidable at this point.

She smiled.

He nearly choked.

"Right. I'm going the store." She pushed the barely touched pancakes to the side, and Vegeta had to refrain from pinching them. She stood up, catching him at eye level.

"Alone?" he asked, instantly regretting saying anything at all.

Bulma grinned. "Yes…You're welcome to join me if you want." She knew well that he wouldn't.

Vegeta laughed and crossed his arms and Bulma took that as a firm no.

"Ok, well, do you want me to get you anything while I'm out?"

He thought carefully for a moment. "Skittles."

"Skittles?" she felt perplexed by his immediate choice.

"Skittles." He reaffirmed.

"Hm. I didn't know you liked Skittles, but okay…Skittles…That it?"

He took the opportunity to glance the length of her figure, seeing how she'd react. "For now." He smirked after sensing a slight change in her mood, in his favour of course, before leaving her to her own devices; satisfied with his acquired discovery.

Flustered and a little bit shaken, Bulma tied her hair up with the old elastic, letting the cool air wash over the back of her neck, instantly cooling her entire body. What was he trying to do to her? Presently, their situation was strange and hard to justify. Were they an item? She would assume so, but not officially. What was this 'official' status, anyway? She could never approach Vegeta and ask him to be her boyfriend and she far from expected him to ask her vice versa, so what did she want out of this? She wasn't a teenager. She was thirty one. Most people her age were married and had children, like Chichi, who was actually younger. The thought pestered her too often. For years she had assumed that Yamcha would be the one, but the feelings she had for him were nothing in comparison to what she was feeling now. The desire. The _need._ The need to be with Vegeta. Heck, he'd only just walked out the room and she wanted to see him again, but it wouldn't work that way. Unfortunately, she had woven herself into a relationship with a very strange character. A relationship? Did she just confirm that? It was a relationship, but was it a _relationship_? Unless they both stated their circumstances, there would be no explicit name for what they have/had. She just hoped it would continue.

The sound of the GR room stirred her out of her conscious rambling. She sighed and headed for the hallway, where her shoes and coat lay waiting.

* * *

><p>A detour in to town was inevitable; Vegeta would have to wait a little longer for his Skittles. An interesting boutique had opened several days ago on the high street, so Bulma had no choice but to purchase a few small items. The store was small but the items and products were varied and plentiful, although she had to squeeze past a couple of larger ladies, colliding with numerous lacy garments and possibly knocking a few from their hangers, but no one saw anything therefore it didn't happen. The store also sold a selection of fragrances on the back wall. Bulma had to weave her way through each of the clothing stands to finally grasp the tester bottle of the newest fragrance, 'Odeur', which she generously doused herself in before confirming it was <em>ok. <em>She had to fight against the tide of hungry women, clutching through the sales and clearance items and shoulder barging anyone who had their eyes on the same piece of material.

Bulma scoffed at the lot of them, until she caught a glimpse of something extra special. A light orange, cropped waist jacket nestled amongst a pair of tatty looking vest tops. Slowly, with her eyes on the prize, and stealthily, she shuffled towards the table piled with a mountain of cheap clothes. Sure, she could afford whatever, but where's the fun in that? This was a game and she would win. She checked over her shoulder as she inched closer to _her _jacket - it was hers now – a daring grin emerging on her face as the other women carried on fighting amongst one another, unaware of her sly approach. Once she reached the table, she sighed in relief and quickly grabbed on to the item, feeling the warm, soft skin beneath her palm -

Her heart stopped when she realised she had her hand on top of someone else's and anxiously, she looked from beneath her eyelashes, to witness something even more horrific.

Emi.

Their hands still firmly clasped on to the jacket, they both smiled and made a similar miscalculated noise, which sounded more like the squeak of a mouse. A few intense seconds passed and they both let go of the jacket, realising who each person was and how dangerous it would be to fight over a 17.99 jacket.

They were shielded from each other by the wall of clothing, which was gradually tumbling down as they stood. Emi looked exactly the same; about 6ft tall, long brown hair and in possession of an all year tan. Bulma, on the other hand, wasn't wearing any make-up and was graced with extremely pale skin, but she loved her skin.

"Bulma! It's been so long." She said eagerly, while shifting around on the spot.

"Hey. I know. How are you?" She didn't show too much enthusiasm.

Bulma didn't dislike Emi, despite her going out with her ex, but there was _something _about this girl which made her twitch with irritation.

"I'm cool, y'know, the usual." She looked down at the floor and then back at the jacket. "You know what. You have this. It wouldn't fit me anyway…" she pushed it towards Bulma, who took a sly peak at the size, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Emi wasn't being bitchy or malicious. There was something about her though…

"You sure?" Bulma asked.

"Yeah, sure I'm sure." She laughed. "Listen, give me your number. We'll have to get together some time. Y'know , for some girl talk. Not that you need any girl talk, I mean you have loads of friends, right? Ah ha ha. What I mean is. If you _want _to…Hm." She was clearly flustered.

"Uh-Yeah, sure, why not." Bulma reached into her bag for a pen and paper and wrote down her number.

Emi almost snatched the paper from over the pile of clothes and began to back away.

"I'll call you." She said, waving the paper in the air, still backing away into the vast crowd of bustling women and one strange looking old man; who looked frustratingly familiar.

Just as Emi was stepping backwards, a rather robust woman charged past, knocking her to the side slightly, revealing a semi large bump in her abdominal region. Then she disappeared.

Bulma gawped at the flash of an image she'd just witnessed. It may have only been for a fraction of a second but it was obvious what it was. There was no way Emi had simply put on weight and for it to look so spherical. The bump was large enough to determine that Emi was indeed pregnant by about four months and she hadn't done too well trying to cover it up in appropriate clothing.

Four months.

Could it be possible that she was carrying Yamchas baby? No, could it? Really?

Bulma snapped up the jacket, paid for it – along with several items - and practically scurried out of the door. Half of her felt a rage erupting. Did Yamcha know? If so, why didn't he tell her? Did she have a right to know? What difference does it make? A hell of a difference! Emi wasn't with anyone in the store and the edginess in her actions was all too discomforting for Bulma. Yamcha, a dad. No, it couldn't be. Why was she so bothered? Yamcha was her friend and if Emi was keeping this as her little secret and if he _was _the father, surely he had a right to know. She needed to call him and let him know.

On arriving home, she slammed the bags down on the kitchen table and ran for the phone in the hallway, where Yamchas number was on speed dial. She slammed 5 and waited. As the dial rang out, Vegeta emerged in to the hallway, a bit close for comfort and practically breathing down her neck.

She shuddered and tried to nudge him away from her, feeling a little bit guilty.

Vegeta had waited patiently for her to arrive with his Skittles, even though she had taken four Goddamn hours to purchase a single bag of Skittles. He hoped that she had bought several bags to compensate for her lack of timing, but she looked empty handed and disconcerted, practically shaking with anticipation. What had gotten her so excited? It certainly wasn't his presence.

Yamcha finally picked up and Bulma decided to cut the crap and get straight to the point.

"Hey. I don't want to stick my nose into things…But I saw Emi today and she wasn't alone."

"Yeah?" Yamcha said warily.

"She looked like she was pregnant, Yamcha…Did you know about this?" She said.

"Where are my Skittles?" Vegeta intruded.

Bulma turned to glare at him and pointed to the two shopping bags in the kitchen, to which he saw and stalked over to.

"Haha…" Yamcha continued. "Yeah, I was going to mention it to you…" he laughed again.

Bulma fumed, "What? Yamcha, this is serious…Is it yours?" she said the last part sheepishly.

"Of course it is." He said quickly.

"My gosh…Well, why haven't you told anyone?"

Meanwhile, Vegeta foraged through the larger of the shopping bags, finding everything but what he was looking for, although he was quite satisfied with a garment he managed to stumble across. He glanced over at Bulma, who looked feverish, swinging her arms up in the air, pointing at an invisible person and placing a hand to her forehead. He knew she was speaking to the weakling, but there was nothing too concerning about her behaviour towards him. Despite her ignoring him to talk on the phone to Yamcha, he was pretty certain that nothing was going on. But why did she seem so aggressive?

"Woman!" He bellowed from the kitchen.

"Just a sec – " Bulma turned away from Vegeta, the pest.

"They're not in here." Vegeta continued, pulling out a black G-string and waving it in the air.

"Yes they are…" she turned to face him again and caught sight of the G-string being swung around the room. "Put that back!" She felt herself squeezing the phone hard enough that it may have cracked.

Completely stressed, she resumed her conversation with Yamcha. "Sorry about that. Go on. Why haven't you told anyone?"

"We'd broken up and stuff, so it just didn't seem like something I'd want to shout about."

"Yeah, but, you could have told _me_" She said, genuinely hurt.

"I was going to…" he lied.

She sighed and turned around to see Vegeta still rummaging through the underwear bag.

"Vegeta!" she pointed again, "The other bag!" followed with another heavy exasperated sigh.

Vegeta frowned at her and saw the smaller, obvious looking bag, where his three bags of Skittles lay.

"Look, B, I'll talk to you about it properly later, ok?" He sounded desperate.

"Yeah, I'm free tonight. I'll come over." She implied.

He sighed. "Ok, sure. See you later."

The disconnection tone was friendlier than Yamcha, which was understandable, being in the position he was in.

This couldn't get a hold of her. It was his life, not hers. She had more important things to deal with. It was exhausting trying to read into peoples' problems, then again, she shouldn't be doing it, but it was Yamcha, the person she'd had known for over a decade, she couldn't just _ignore _it.

She turned towards the kitchen, Vegeta had left, but where he had gone was a mystery as the GR wasn't making its' usual, antagonistic vibrations. What was planned as a banal morning, had transformed into a whirl wind of gossip and twisting emotions, colliding into each other, and complicating entire situations. Bulma wanted to use this day to focus on what was going on with her and Vegeta, if there was anything, yet it had been eaten away by something equally as demanding. An unborn child. Yamchas unborn child.

She went to the tap, poured herself a glass of water and sipped it, while watching the afternoon decrease into the evening. It was now, 4:30pm and what had she achieved out of the day? Nothing, other than uplifting someone else's' problem. A problem, is that what this was? Yamchas tone was hard to place; distant, but casual at the same time. The information, which he already seemed to know and for how long she found a mystery, didn't seem to bother him all that much.

He sounded as if he had accepted it, yet a couple of weeks ago he had been around, eating KFC and watching movies, without a single care in his mind. Maybe he had only just found out. But his reaction wasn't similar to that of a man who had just found out they were the father to the unborn child of their ex-girlfriend. What a situation.

The day had snowballed into an avalanche, but Bulma felt it necessary to take time for herself, rather than fuss any longer over babies and parental issues. Besides, it had occurred to her that Vegeta had been coping perfectly fine under the 1000G, today. She snickered at the thought that maybe a little bit, or a lot, of released tension, would help him with his training.

* * *

><p>Yamchas apartment had been through a dramatic transformation. Anything which was cream or influenced by Emi, was now either dark blue or black, even the kitchen counters were a deep onyx style marble, as were the tiles beneath Bulmas feet. She wondered if he had designed all of it himself because it certainly resembled a masculine touch, hence not a feminine or bright colour in sight or perhaps it was a very recent change to signify his mood. But Yamcha wasn't that creative.<p>

They stood adjacent in the kitchen, Yamcha was currently picking fragments of food, lodged in his teeth because Bulma may have disrupted his evening meal.

"You want a drink?" He asked, still fingering his teeth.

"Coffee, please."

She leaned against the kitchen tops and let the inevitable silence grasp hold of her. As Yamcha wacked the kettle on and rummaged through the cupboards, Bulma let her gaze wonder around the room and then out the window, seeing the low sun light, beaming against the blinds, sending strips of orange light against the black kitchen wall. Several birds were calling to one another from roof tops, some sounded as if they were miles away and others like they were in the room. She was whipped out of her day dream by a cup, practically being shoved into her chest. She took it and blew the steam, manipulating it's path and watching it float into different directions, then confirming it was far too hot and placing down on the side.

Yamcha mirrored Bulmas posture and seemed to shrink deeper in to the silence. Then he spoke.

"So, what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know…How long have you known?" She kept one hand on the mug of coffee, subconsciously testing her pain endurance.

"A couple weeks."

"Ah." She snapped her hand away from the cup and cradled it in the other; all the while Yamcha was oblivious to her fraying concentration.

"I know…Me, a dad." He mused into the air.

Yamcha seemed pretty collected at this point and she instantly noticed that he was possibly warming to the idea already; she knew he would be a good father; he was a great guy, so why wouldn't he be? She smiled at him.

"I'm sure you'll do an amazing job. I just want you to know I'm here."

"Thanks Bulma."

The question which still sat was, what was he going to do?

"Are you guys going to get back together, then?" She took a sip of coffee.

"I don't think so. I mean, I don't want to, even for the sake of this baby." He said seriously.

"Hm. Right." The coffee had burnt her tongue.

Then something changed. Something roused a wave of anger from Yamcha. She didn't know what had provoked him, but it was all the necessary stages of shock and despair. First he was calm and now it was like he had suddenly realised what was actually happening and what was going to happen. She admired him, in a sense, for acting the way he did, no matter how emotionally difficult a situation was, Yamcha always proved to manage and deal with it in his own way.

"I can't." He clenched his fists. "I'm so angry with her, Bulma. Why would she keep this from me?"

For once, she didn't know what to say, whether her words would make a difference, and leaving her questioning her purpose for being there in the first place. She had to say something, though. She'd come to comfort him. Both sides of this situation were arguable. One hand, Yamcha had a right to know straight away, then again, it's a scary thing for any woman to go through, so she could see why Emi maybe didn't want to say anything. Plus, Yamcha was right, they _had _split up.

"I don't know. It's complicated, but I totally understand that you're angry." She said.

"It's just happened so fast. It'll be all over the news any time soon…and my career…" he placed his head in his hands.

"Don't worry about that right now. You have to focus on this baby, as much as you don't want to."

It felt as if the words she was saying were useless, as Yamcha was proving to get more and more distressed. Then he calmed.

"I'm actually glad you came to talk to me." He said.

"Yeah." She smiled.

"Sorry if I sounded harsh before, on the phone."

"It's fine." She waved a hand.

"I just didn't want to think about it."

"No, I get it." She reassured.

Another silence emerged and Bulma sipped her coffee once more, failing to learn from her last mistake and scolding her tongue.

"Hey." Yamcha perked up. "I just bought a new film, starring Liam Neeson…"

"Yeah…?"

"Wanna watch it?" he grinned and eyed over to the sitting room.

Bulma checked her watch, noting that it was 6:00pm; plenty of time for a film. She wasn't rushing back for anything. Her mom and dad were out gallivanting and Vegeta had locked himself away in the GR, so, yeah, she had plenty of time for an action film which she wasn't too interested in. Anything to bring Yamcha back to life.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until 10:00pm, when Bulma arrived home. She entered the kitchen to see Vegeta, carelessly rummaging through a bag of skittles, picking out the green ones and placing them down on the side, before grabbing the remaining contents of the bags and shovelling them down his throat. Bulma laughed.<p>

"Can you taste the rainbow?" She grinned.

"What?" He muffled, a mouth full of sweets, spittle flying everywhere.

He didn't have time for her sarcastic remarks or whatever it was she was talking about now. All he did know, was she had been with the weakling all night, doing God knows what. Initially, he had no problem with it, but she was acting quite snaky, coming in late and trying to creep through the kitchen unnoticed. What had he gotten himself into? He had to know.

"What is his business?" He said after swallowing the skittles.

Bulma, completely oblivious to Vegetas concern, flounced over to the table, whipped away the green skittles and placed them all into her mouth in one go. While Vegeta flinched with annoyance; he had been saving the green ones for last as they were his favourite.

"What's wrong with the green ones?" she said.

He repeated. "What is his business, woman?"

"Erm…I don't think it's my place to say."

"You'll tell me." He stated angrily, crisping the empty bag with his fist.

"I will?" she teased.

"Yes."

"I don't think so. No, I mean, I can't because it's not my business…technically."

Leaning next to him, she was able to smell his natural aroma, which wasn't a bad smell, it was quite enticing, thus provoking a few images from the night before and making her heart pound in her chest. It had been an entire day and she had not yet discussed or even asked about what had gone on the night before. Yes, they had sex, but it was more than that. She knew it, but did he? It seemed like he did. Nothing was ever clear with Vegeta, she had to either go by instinct or simply guess what he was feeling. Now was proving difficult. He seemed annoyed.

"I know you don't want to talk about it." She began and he shot her a concerned look. "But last night. You know it happened."

He raised an eyebrow. What a ridiculous thing to state. Of course it happened. He was there. Why would she make such an obvious statement?

"Yes." He said bluntly, crossing his arms and looking ahead of himself.

"Ok…Well. What do you make of it?" she regretted her choice of words.

Was she serious? The question sat in the air for a few seconds while he thought about even answering her at all. Then he grinned.

"Interesting." He said with a smirk.

Bulma mulled over his words. "You could put it that way, I suppose." She paused, "Do you think it'll happen again?" She was taking a risk now.

Vegeta laughed and looked her dead in the eye. "Is that why you've bought all these provocative garments?" he pointed to the shopping bag on the kitchen table.

Perplexed, she gasped. "What? No. They were on sale…Ach."

"Earthlings…You're unbelievable." He shuffled a bit, but remained stood beside her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she huffed.

"Do I have to spell it out?"

"Please do, 'cause I haven't got a clue what you're talking about." She crossed her arms and waited, but got nothing back from him, other than a frown.

She was in despair. It was as if nothing had happened between them at all. How was she supposed to react? Was this normal behaviour? No. Then what was she supposed to do?

"Whatever, Vegeta. I know how you felt last night. Whether you want to admit it or not. I _know_." She grinned.

He paused, still looking away. "And what's that, then?"

"Um…"

"Go on…I haven't got all day." He rebuked.

This was it. Was she ready to vocalise her feelings? Damn right. She unfolded her arms and lifted her chin slightly. "Love." She stated firmly.

The air somehow became caught in his throat and his skin felt scorching, forcing him to turn away from her. "How absurd." He mumbled.

"Yeah I know. Blah blah, Prince of all Saiyans and blah blah, training. Jeez. There's clearly still enough room in your tiny, prune of a heart, for love." She leaned across the table to grab her shopping bags. "Just accept it and live on."

They stood a metre apart. Vegeta, looking furious and at the blank wall before him, and Bulma, staring right at him, fearless. No matter what distractions she had today, she knew, deep down, that it was going to boil down to Vegeta acting stupid and childish. Why couldn't he just act like a man?

"Hey. Look at me." She said in a formal tone.

Straight away, as if on command, he turned to look at her; a dangerous frown still etched on to his face.

She continued. "You only live once…Minus being brought back from the dead…Make the most of it." And she turned away, bags in hand.

This is what always caught him. Her confidence, knowledge and faith. All he could do was watch her leave. But she stopped in the arch way of the door.

"Now, I'm going up to my room. So if you want to make the most of your life, I suggest you join me." She briskly spun around and made her way up the stairs, while Vegeta stood frozen, trying to clamp his mouth tightly shut.

How dare she order him around. This woman…She was bold and fiery.

Perfect for him.

He clenched his fists and remained still for a few seconds, before huffing loudly and following her to her room.

* * *

><p>AN – Dramaaaa. I know I'm pushing boundaries with this story and this chapter had A LOT of things going on, but I thought it was kind of unique and I promise, it'll all fit nicely together in the end. Also, Emi is a made up character so it's only fair that I can manipulate her. Mwhuahaha.


	20. Ripples

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 20  
><span>Ripples<span>

* * *

><p>The summer was drawing to a close but the trees were still desperately holding on to fresh, lime green leaves while the warm morning sun shine was beaming across the lawn. Morning sunshine meaning, very early morning sun shine. Bulma had grown accustom to waking up at these strange hours, mindlessly mirroring the demanding routine of the Saiyan prince she was living with even though it was a pointless and frankly, quite a pathetic ordeal. Pathetic because she hadn't been in any immediate contact with Vegeta for just over a month now, suggesting that she had either gone wrong somewhere or he was just an endless mystery; one which she couldn't ever solve and for Bulma, that was quite something.<p>

She stood on the balcony, her arms folded across the ledge, her body slumped forward and her chin resting on her hands, thinking about the steps she had made and how far she had come, just to have it thrown back at her with sheer Saiyan force. Stretching and yawning, she stood up, recollecting that she had been awake since four thirty, which oddly enough, she found quite stimulating, plus it gave her extra time to get things done in the lab. But that was all she had been doing lately, with no word from Vegeta, not unless it was something to do with the gravity room or when there wasn't any food available. Same old. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, one which was too high for her too climb over and Vegeta had simply hopped over without looking back; she couldn't reach him anymore. Not that she had tried too hard, herself. To her, it was pointless trying to force Vegeta to do anything, if he wanted to do something he would and she understood that his training was a major priority, but ignoring her on most occasions was just plain rude.

She sighed and tightened the ties on her robe. It may have been late summer, but at six thirty in the morning it was still pretty damn cold. There was nothing to do. Bulma thought about the last night they had shared together, a month ago, and even then she saw no immediate signs of post cotial neglect. For one mad, completely irrational minute, Bulma actually thought that maybe she and Vegeta had something, maybe it was something small, but it was definitely _something._ Now everyday was the same: wake up at four after hearing the gravity room start up, get showered, go down for food, and await her father to see if there were any important updates in the market, be told that there isn't as of yet and to not worry too much about it, go to the labs and sort out all her blue prints for discarded inventions and try to see whether they are actually worth a shot, get food for dinner (Maybe bumping into Vegeta) and eventually end up in bed way too early, just to wake up again at four. It was becoming extremely mundane and Bulma usually had a lot on her plate, keeping herself entertained for days, maybe even months but only a month had gone by and absolutely nothing could stop her imagination from wondering to thoughts about _him_.

Urgh.

Even though her plans for the month had been taken up, she still had the many visits from Yamcha and he'd tell her how he was beginning to come to terms with the idea of being a father and that him and Emi were on 'talking' terms now. She was happy that he was settling into the situation, but he was looking to her for guidance about every tiny thing; as if she would know any better. Sure, she had a strong head on her shoulders but she didn't feel capable of giving advice to someone about children when she hadn't any herself. She did suggest that he speak to Chichi but he seemed pretty adamant that _she_ was better at giving advice and for the simple fact that he had known her for that little bit longer. Yamcha was terrified and Bulma could see it in his face every time he'd come round. He would constantly ask for reassurance from her, wanting her to give him praise for the role he had yet to play, it was an odd thing. The time they'd spent together. Like old times. They'd eat, watch a film and then converse for hours on end, neither of them caring about what other people thought.

The news about Emi's pregnancy had reached the tabloids already and Yamcha hadn't taken it too well. With him being a pro baseball player and Emi a failed actress turned fitness instructor, they were fresh meat for the papers and their story was just as delectable as the last celeb poor saps' private matter. Although on this occasion, the headlines were blood thirsty and plain malicious, feasting off the misfortunes off others and twisting it to their own advantage. Not that Emi's pregnancy was a misfortune, even though Yamcha had initially seen it that way. Any child being brought into the world was a blessing and Bulma hoped that Yamcha would fit perfectly in to his awaiting role as a parent.

She had her doubts.

Perching on the end of her bed and looking very quizzical, Bulma decided to give Chichi a call and maybe invite her and Goku round for lunch, despite Goku being scared off the last time he visited.

Vegeta…

She huffed and headed for the shower, believing that some time to talk with Chichi was well over due. She hadn't spoken to the younger woman in months and felt the need to discuss Yamchas story with someone who had experience in that field, rather than land it all on her when she really didn't have a clue.

The shower was scolding hot as it rinsed through her wavy hair, steam overflowing the en-suite and floating out through her bedroom and out on to the lawn, where Vegeta could see it perfectly.

Bulmas room was on the second floor of the main building, right in his line of vision as he sat balanced on the dome of one of the smaller external labs. He had been watching her for a couple of minutes while she was sitting in her room, deep in thought and a part of him wondered if she was thinking about him, before the other part of him violently pushed the thought aside and replaced it with the bigger issue that was his training.

Somehow, he had almost forgotten that he was behind by a substantial amount and behind he was, to a low-life clown like Kakarot. He thought about his father, as much as he didn't want to, and knew how he would react to such a disgrace, defacing the name of Vegeta. He frowned and watched as the steam rolled out from Bulmas room, wondering why he was even there in the first place. The attachment was forming and honestly, it worried him. The scary reality was, it wasn't an attachment forming from her, it was him and the only thing he knew to do was revert and avoid her at all costs. As cowardly as it seems, he saw it as saving himself from what could be his downfall. These feelings were surfacing and he'd be damned if they took complete control over him, so the best thing to do was get out before it did.

He had tried leaving before. That didn't work. Maybe he had to act drastically, possibly leave the entire planet. What was he doing here anyway? Most mornings he'd wake up and ask himself the same question but all the same, he couldn't answer. He had fooled himself that he was here to gain the strength to beat Kakarot, and that these androids were just giving him a good reason to train day in and day out, but he had been doing so for over a year now and still nothing.

The thought sent a prickling sensation down his spine and he clenched his fists tightly, before leaping off the roof and landing firmly on the lawn, his eyes still locked on to Bulmas bedroom window.

He blamed her. Not entirely, but she was partly responsible for the shit he was in. In a way he thanked her. Thanked her for helping him find his sense. Training under 1000G was, on most occasions, sending him into a repeated unconscious state, making him tremble for days after and ache from head to toe from the extreme force pressing against his tired muscles. Yet Kakarot had managed it with 100G. Where the hell was he going wrong? It had to be her. There was no other way around it. Even now he was thinking about her, naked and dripping wet in the shower. He mentally cursed himself, knowing full well what he had to do, but something was holding him back. These feelings. Why were they getting to him so much? Plus, that weakling had been hanging around like a bad smell recently, and there was no excuse for his persistence. What did he want, exactly? The woman hadn't told him why scar face was hanging around recently. Mind you, he hadn't been within an arms-length of her, so that was understandable. If he asked her about it she would instantly get the wrong idea, so he had to bite his tongue and continue on, ignoring the putrid stink which was wafting through the house from that weaklings skin.

He grunted and headed for the gravity room, where his salvation and ultimate unconsciousness awaited him. He noted the time was seven o'clock and was startled to see the womans mother pottering around the kitchen and from the looks and smell of things, she was baking something too intoxicating for him to just walk on through to his training. He sat at the table and cleared his throat, making Bunny turn round in a daze and beam out to him.

"Oh Vegeta, sweetie, you're up early." He rolled his eyes. He had been getting up this early for the last year, occasionally bumping into her and demanding breakfast. What made her think this was new for him?

"I've just put some cookies in the oven to bake, but I'll have some fresh waffles whipped up for you in just a sec'. I know how you boys need your food!" She shouted, spinning around, opening the cupboard and getting out the waffle maker, then placing it on the side and plugging it in.

He watched her for a little while, mesmerised by her complete stupidity. What was this woman on? Screeching and running around the kitchen at this time of the morning. He soon turned away when he felt Bulma approaching, suddenly making the idea of waffles less appealing. Trying to ignore her, he swivelled in his chair so that his back was facing her, but the freshly showered smell flew through the room and seemed to overpower Bunny's cooking.

Bulma immediately locked on to the Saiyan as she strolled through the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower and her skin wreaking freshness. She had no time for him today as she had to call Chichi and arrange lunch for their arrival. They _would _be coming. They had to; otherwise Bulma would simply go insane. She hoped they'd come, anyway. Without any hesitation, she walked to the tap and poured herself a glass of water, before carrying it out to the hall where she picked up the phone and began to dial Chichis number.

Vegeta sighed in relief. If he had looked at her, he wouldn't have been able to look away, bringing back the images of her when they were intimate.

"There you go sugar plum. Eat up now." Bunny interrupted, placing the hot plate of waffles in front of him and earning the deadliest sneer.

It wasn't long until the crazy old woman vanished out from sight, leaving him alone with the smell of cookies beckoning him and a plate full of waffles. Today was proving to be rather acceptable. He would eat his breakfast, train, eat his evening meal, go for a swim, maybe and then sleep. With his knife and fork in hand, he dived into his waffles, satisfied with the turn of events. That was until he caught the sound of the woman's voice, almost bellowing from the hallway.

Bulma fiddled with the phone cord before firmly placing the phone back down, a giant grin across her face. Chichi_, _Goku _and_ Gohan were coming over for lunch. It seemed that the day had taken a positive turn in her favour. Now all she had to do was prepare for their arrival.

What to do…

The weather forecast for the afternoon was sunshine, meaning it was only right to have a picnic, and it meant that she'd be out of Vegetas way, avoiding any unnecessary appearances or interactions. He had his training and she had her work, friends and family. As selfish as that seemed, but she was pretty happy with how the day was unfolding. Chichi would be here for her to talk to and Goku and Gohan would be able to train if they wanted; it was a win for everyone.

Bulma sighed in contentment, before her thoughts were rudely interrupted by Vegeta, storming through the hallway and heading through to the gravity room; a trail of rage left behind him. Bulma rolled her eyes. She had no time for this, if he wanted to lock himself away all day then fool him, she didn't want him around anyway, and he'd only ruin things for everyone else. Sometimes she wondered what on earth she saw in that man. But even though she wanted to hate him, she couldn't. Yes, she knew he needed his space and his training was always first, but she didn't ask for much, heck, she didn't ask for anything. What an arrogant jerk. If he wanted to be alone, he could be, she thought regrettably, before exhaling calmly and walking towards the kitchen.

What was that amazing smell?

* * *

><p>The picnic was a success to say the least. There were a few wasps and one them took a particular liking to Gokus orange clothing, but other than that the day was passing by pleasantly. Before Bulma knew it, it was already winding down into the evening, but the summer sun was proving otherwise as she and Chichi sat on the lawn, sunning themselves and beginning to discuss the topic of Yamcha and Emi.<p>

There was a brief awkward moment when chichi decided to quiz Bulma about Vegeta, asking if she had found any common ground with the angry Saiyan and seeing how Bulma was coping with him, but Bulma became speechless, maybe, reluctantly giving away a few things. Chichi immediately sat up on her elbows, lifting her sun glasses from her eyes and scanning Bulmas sheepish reaction.

What was she to say? Should she tell Chichi? But it wasn't any of her business. Granted, the Yamcha thing wasn't any of her business either but Bulma would happily talk about that. What could she say anyway? That she'd slept with Vegeta twice and now things were merry? Because it was far from it and Bulma knew that Chichi wouldn't take too lightly to the thought of Bulma merely _sleeping_with someone, especially if that someone was the one person she hated in the entire universe.

Hate was a strong word these days.

Luckily Bulma was wearing her sun glasses, shielding herself from total judgment and she eventually shrugged and sighed. "It's tough living with that guy, but I just let him get on with it, y'know?" She placed both arms behind her head and tilted her chin towards the sky.

Slightly unconvinced, Chichi 'hmmed' and lay back down on the grass, momentarily distracted when a ki blast swished past her head and blew up a tree a few metres away from her. She had been so used to things exploding around the house that she barely flinched, but Bulma sat up like a meerkat and scanned the lawn until her eyes landed on a very apologetic looking Goku, waving his hand shyly from a distance.

Bulma was about to get up and show Goku what happens to dumb Saiyans who mess up her property when Chichi coughed lightly, trying to initiate another round of interrogation.

"So, what's this I hear about Yamcha, then?" she asked, watching Bulmas muscles relax before she lay back down on the lawn.

This was a delicate matter, but Chichi was a mother and knew how to deal with such a subject, so Bulma didn't think twice about throwing the details right out there. "Well, you know the basis of the situation, which is pretty cemented." She sighed lightly as the heat pulsed around her skin.

"Mmhmm." Chichi uttered as she frowned into the sun light.

"He just hasn't got a clue. Hell, he's coming to me for advice almost _every day. _What am I supposed to say to him? I can't turn him away because he's in an awkward place right now. That wouldn't be fair. And we've been getting along great recently…" At that pause, Chichi lifted her head up and glanced at Bulma, trying to see what the blue heiress was trying to say.

"So?" Chichi said nonchalantly.

"So…You're a mom. Can't you give him any advice?" she said

Chichi mused for a moment, sitting up straight and staring dead ahead. "Bulma, I was married to Goku when I was pregnant with Gohan… Goku was with me all the way, besides, he needs to speak to a father, not me, what could I do?" she laughed lightly. "Sure, I raised Gohan, but that was with the help of Goku…Even though that man can barely look after himself, sometimes. Either way, Yamcha is going to have to deal with it in his own way. I don't see how my advice would help him, Bulma."

She turned towards Bulma who was also sitting up and she raised an eyebrow. "You'd think it was you having the baby. The amount of time you're spending worrying over him. I say tell him straight."

Bulma blinked, a bit confused. "What do you mean?"

"Tell him to man up! He can't keep crawling to you for help. He needs to grow a pair and deal with his own issues, not drag you in with him. You have other things to worry about, am I right?" she frowned at Bulma, hinting at what she thought she knew. She had a good eye for things and Bulma was quite easy to read. Something was going on and she would get to the bottom of it.

Bulma blushed and turned her head to the side, not wanting Chichi to suspect anything, but she supposed it was too late; the woman was like Sherlock Holmes.

Chichi made a hissing sound before throwing herself back down on to the grass. "I knew it." She said, quite disappointed.

"You don't know anything, Chichi." Bulma spat back harshly.

"Oh yeah? Then why have you gone all quiet on me, hm?"

Bulma wasn't quite sure what Chichi was accusing her of, here. Was she thinking Yamcha and she were romantically involved or did she suspect something about her little fling with Vegeta? Bulma decided to play it out, chewing her bottom lip and turning to face the stubborn woman. "No, it's not like that. I care about Yamcha, but that was a long time ago now. He has a commitment." She said, quietly hoping that Chichi wouldn't ask her to elaborate about Vegeta.

Blinking in confusion, Chichi sat up for the third time, this time taking her sun glasses right off and getting a good look at Bulma, trying to detect any truth in her words. It was obvious that Bulma was hiding the truth about Vegeta. Chichi was no fool, but she valued their friendship and guessed that if Bulma didn't want to say anything, then that was her choice and she wouldn't force the truth out of her; as much as she loved the gossip. Plus, it looked like Bulma had a lot on her mind at the moment; placing any more stress upon her would be cruel. Chichi shrugged casually, staying sat up, placing her arms out straight and letting the warmth of the sun hit her fair skin.

Bulma sighed inwardly and focused her attention on the laughter from across the lawn, where Goku and Gohan were training together. They were always so happy together, but always so energetic. No wonder Chichi happily accepted the invitation; she was finally getting a bit of peace, despite the few stray ki blasts shooting around and nearly blowing them to pieces.

All in a day in the life of Bulma Briefs.

She sighed and sat up; enjoying the calmness she hadn't felt in years. It was funny to think that in less than two years, the world would perish to a couple of androids. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but for now there was always that possibility.

Vegeta was painfully aware of the return of Kakarot and his brat. His ki had been floating around the grounds for a few hours now and he wasn't amused in the slightest. As far as he was concerned, today was about his training and nothing more, but with those fools running around, it was hard to concentrate fully and he was slipping up again. And for once it wasn't because of that blasted woman.

A few more one handed push ups and he would have reached 1000.

_996…_

That was until a loud bang shook the room, knocking him off balance and sending him plummeting into the solid ground face first. At first he thought the androids might have arrived too early, before he heard a loud 'SORRY' being shouted from somewhere close. Before he could think clearly, his mind set a new course of action, an immediate one, along the lines of _seek _and _destroy._

How dare that simpleton disturb his training! Does he not know with whome he is dealing with?

Vegeta jumped up (quite quickly, considering he was under 1000G), hit the exit button and charged out the room like a blood thirsty lion. He bombed pass bunny, knocking a tray of cooking out of her hand and he continued to shoot outside with a heartbeat. The adreline was pouring out of him when he saw Kakarot sitting on the lawn, laughing and rolling around like some sort of chimpanzee. That was exactly what he was.

Goku sat up, feeling the intensity of Vegeta approach, and the look of death in his eyes. He was a little confused because he hadn't done anything to upset Vegeta today, let alone disturb his training. So why did he look so mad?

"What the fuck are you doing here, Kakarot? Are you really so stupid as to return for a second time?" He stopped metres away from the younger, more powerful Saiyan, flaring his ki viciously in a warning.

Goku chuckled nervously and spluttered a few incoherent words, before standing up and backing off.

Gohan watched and his eyes grew wide with fear and anticipation. He knew that ki blast was a little too strong and his dad had told him not to worry about it, which he didn't, that was until he realised Vegeta had heard it. Who wouldn't have heard it? However, his mom and Bulma didn't seem to bother too much with the massive explosion; even though he blew a hole through a small domed building down the side of the complex.

"Hey, Vegeta. Calm down. We're sorry if we disturbed your training. It won't happen again." Goku said, gesturing for Vegeta to cool it.

Vegeta clenched his fists in response. "Yes, Kakarot. It _won't_ happen again. Because you won't live to try that stunt for a _third _time." He said quite calmly, generating a small ki ball.

Gokus eyes widened as Vegeta stared threateningly into them.

All the commotion roused Bulma and Chichi from the other end of the lawn and as soon as Bulma saw Vegeta and Goku in the same space, she knew there'd be trouble, so she sprinted towards them with Chichi in tow.

Vegeta watched Bulma approaching from his peripheral vision, but was more focused upon the dumbfounded Saiyan before him.

Goku looked bewildered and was slightly relieved when Chichi arrived at his side, glaring at Vegeta who in turn, sneered and bared his teeth at her.

"If it's so much of a problem, we'll leave." Goku said, nodding Gohan over. "Come guys, let's go."

"Wait!" Bulma shouted, holding her hand up and panting from the unnecessary jog. She then realised where she had automatically placed herself.

On the same side as Vegeta.

This provoked Chichi to raise a suspicious brow at Bulma.

Goku smiled, wrapping an arm around both Chichi and Gohan, who in turn gave an apologetic smile back to Bulma. "Don't worry about it, Bulma. Hey, thanks for the food." He grinned, while placing two fingers to his forehead and disappearing.

"Coward…" Vegeta hissed under his breath, relaxing his ki and hands.

Bulma blinked in confusion, watching the empty space where her friends had been. _Had_ been. Now they were gone, all thanks to none other than the prince of Saiyans. The nerve! She noticed that he had yet to run back to his training and as she glanced over at him, startled to find his eyes boring into her skin; a depth within his stare. What was he doing?

She threw her hands up in resignation. "Congratulations again, Vegeta. Guess you should go back to your training now." She huffed and placed her hands on her hips, trying to cover how deeply upset she was. Why did he have to do that? Couldn't she have any fun anymore? Wasn't she entitled to a life? This man! This _man_. Considering he wanted nothing to do with her, he was happy to go out of his way to destroy her happiness in whatever way possible. Asshole.

What had happened between them that had made him so angry? She felt like she was partly responsible for this reckless behaviour.

Vegeta on the other hand, was too drained and didn't really know what he was doing. And what the hell she was doing beside him. All he knew was, Kakarot had gone and _this _time he hoped he wouldn't return or dammit, he'd send him to the depths of another dimension!

She looked at the glazed look in his eyes and found it frivolous to even try and argue with him right now. What was the point? She quickly spun around and started picking up the left over plates, cups and blankets from the destroyed picnic. No, the picnic was fine. It was _the aftermath._

He watched her for a while, suddenly overwhelmed with a strange feeling, but not sure how to place it. Without thinking too much about it, he also spun on his heel and went on to resume his training, leaving her to clean up her own mess.

Looking over her shoulder and seeing that he'd gone, she retired to the ground, slugging her shoulders and dropping the paper plates and bits of leftover food on to the floor next to her. What had she done to deserve this? She really needed to relax.

The sun had hidden itself behind the large Capsule Corp building, leaving Bulma sitting in the shade. It was still warm enough to sit out for a while longer and that's exactly what she planned to do.

Sit out. On the lawn. Alone.

Wasn't life full of fun!

She might have said 'surprises' but _nothing_ about this had surprised her in the least. These kinds of events were the status quo around here lately.

Saiyans…

She was looking forward to these androids coming now. Maybe that way she'd be able to get some peace before she died. No matter which way she turned, there was always some kind of drama bubbling and she _always_ got caught up in it.

Sometimes without even realising it.

* * *

><p>It was later that evening when Bunny saw how drained her poor daughter was. So she suggested that a quick swim would relax her body and mind, and set her up for a good night sleep.<p>

When Bulma had been swimming lengths for twenty minutes, she concluded that her mother had obviously conned her into things once again. The atmosphere was pretty relaxing, though. The lights were dim and would merge into different exotic colours in a repeated pattern, and there was gentle spa music playing from the speakers on the ceiling. Bulma stood at the far end of the pool for a while, watching the rippling water, shimmering, and reflecting the various colours on to her skin. Maybe this is what her mom had meant about relaxing. If she floated a little bit, she could concentrate on the slight splashing sounds from the tiny waves, slapping the edges of the pool. The more she thought about it, the calmer she felt. She decided to float on her back for a while, staring at the ceiling and thinking about…well, nothing.

Vegeta had finished his training for the day and headed to the pool for his warm-down session. His training had been the usual: lacking in progression but knackering him to the brink of unconsciousness. It didn't help that Kakarot had showed up again and disrupted him, and that he had gotten himself in such a state that he blew up the control panel again, but now he felt that he'd done enough for one day and was ready to wind down for the night.

With a towel over his shoulder, he trudged across the compound to the far side, where the small yet adequate swimming hole was. When he silently opened the door, he found himself utterly confused with the sight he saw. For a second he assumed he had walked into the wrong room.

Looking around in sheer bewilderment, he took in the colourful lighting, the various candles on the pool side and the God awful music ringing in his ears. What the fuck was going on? What had happened to the plain swimming hole he was used to?

He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Bulma floating lifelessly by the edge of the pool. The fact that he hadn't sensed her in here emphasised how drained he was and he contemplated walking out, before he heard gentle splashing, catching his eye. She had already spotted him now. He sighed. Noticing that she was practically naked, once again. And what the hell did she have on her head?

Bulma guessed that she was asking for too much when she saw Vegeta snarling at her from the pool side. She wasn't moving, though. No way. Finally, she had found some sort of peace and she wasn't ready to let go of it, dammit! She exhaled very slowly and very calmly.

Vegeta devised a quick escape plan, scowling and folding his arms. Basically, if he told her that the gravity room had busted again, he could use that as an excuse for seeking her out, thus sending her into a rage and allowing him an excuse to leave. Sorted.

Bulma tilted her head to the side and watched him for a while, trying to comprehend what was swirling through that brain of his. She opened her mouth to ask what he wanted, before he cut he beat her to it.

"Woman, the gravity room has malfunctioned again. You must repair it immediately." He stared at her intently, waiting for the inevitable reaction. That was until he realised he wasn't getting what he had hoped for.

Bulma sighed and continued to float on to her back. If Vegeta had broken that thing again, then her dad could fix it, she wanted no part of it. "Hm. Fat chance... Ask my dad, he's in his office." She said calmly while bobbing around on the surface.

Vegeta tried to avoid looking at her breasts which were particularly prominent in that ridiculous swim suit she was wearing. Earthlings and their bizarre sense of dress. Nevertheless, he was too tired to argue with her, teetering on walking away, but there was something soothing about the environment he had walked into and he seemed to be rooted to the ground; watching her floating around. His body wouldn't let him leave. Avoiding her completely was the only way he wouldn't end up surrendering.

He made his decision.

Bulma could feel Vegetas eyes pressing into her, so she spun on to her front and dived under the water, reaching the end of the pool and coming back up for sweet air. When she surfaced, she was satisfied to see that Vegeta had given up and left. She grinned, placed her elbows on the edge of the pool behind her and leaned back, floating and kicking her feet rhythmically.

"If I were to kill you, you would be dead by now." A husky voice rumbled from directly beside her.

Bulma shrieked and clutched onto her chest in an attempt to calm herself down. Why did he have to do that? "How the hell did you get there?" she fumed, a red hue gracing her cheeks as she glared at the cocky Saiyan.

He chose not to respond, mentally cursing himself for making such an irrational move; one which he'd later regret. Bulma looked over him, seeing his hair dripping and deflated and his skin shimmering under the dimmed lights and water. It was hard to look away, but she forced her eyes somewhere else, shocked when she caught on to Vegetas training pants that had been left on the pool side. She glanced at the pants, then back at Vegeta, then back at the pants again. "Vegeta, where are your swimming trunks?" she asked shyly, fidgeting under the knowledge that she was standing next to an incredibly sexy and naked man.

Vegetas frown deepened. What a question! He scoffed and watched her from his peripheral view. "A warrior doesn't wear _trunks_. He swims in his natural form." He said boldly, hoping that she would follow by example and instantly sneering to himself for thinking such vulgar things.

"That doesn't slide here on earth, buddy. If my mom or dad finds you in here…naked-"

"What will they do, woman?"

Bulma mused for a moment, trying hard not to look at his equipment from beneath the rippling water. "I don't know, but it won't be pleasant." She quickly turned her head to the side. What was wrong with this man? And why did he want her attention all of a sudden? Urgh!

Vegeta proper his elbows on the edge of the pool and looked up at the ceiling. "Aquatics are vital for Saiyan training." He said calmly.

Confused, Bulma turned towards him, seeing the look of pure entrancement in his eyes, his incredibly strong jaw line and capturing the way his hair had wilted behind him.

It was as if he had split himself into two different people. Now here he was, looking beyond irresistible and standing beside her…trying to make conversation? He was also naked. She couldn't forget _that._"I haven't seen you in here before." She said, stopping her train of thought.

He remained focused on the ceiling, without batting an eye. "There are a lot of things you haven't seen, woman." He smirked.

"True." She replied, mirroring his actions.

A silence stirred as they both watched their own reflections in the plastic-like ceiling, and being mesmerised by the calming effects of the water. Vegeta finally lowered his gaze to her face, seeing that she still had that obscure looking thing on her head. "What the fuck is that on your head?" He frowned deeply at the shiny, rubber looking thing.

Bulma blinked back to focus and looked at Vegeta, perplexed for a moment.

"Get that ridiculous thing off. You look like Frieza." He chuckled while staring at it. He was so used to seeing her long blue hair, that this unfamiliar sight was a bit unsettling.

He didn't like it.

Quite insulted, Bulma huffed and turned away. "No, my hair will get wet and I washed it this morning." She crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't spend hours curling her hair for it to get wet and stinking of chlorine.

"It's hideous." Vegeta laughed loudly at the odd sight before him. He assumed that if he made fun of her appearance, she'd automatically take the damn thing off.

"Urgh. Jerk. I don't care. My hair is not getting wet, so the cap stays on." She stated.

"Foolish woman." He muttered with a vindictive smirk playing on his lips.

Bulma wasn't quite sure whether she had heard right, so she turned back to face him, seeing the threatening look in his dark eyes. "What was that?" she retorted rather gingerly.

He looked in to her blue eyes, seeing the wary look in them and he advanced towards her slowly. "I wasn't _asking _you to take it off. I was telling you. Are you disobeying the orders of a prince?" he said in a deep, gruff voice.

Bulma gulped but kept her eye contact, feeling her body beckoning her to touch his skin. "Looks that way."

Suddenly, she felt a gripping pain on her scalp when her swim cap was torn away roughly by the ferocious man; ripping out a few strands of hair in the process. Her eyes widened as she began to process the pain, before she caved. "OWWW!" She clasped on to her head and bent forward with shock. What the hell had just happened?

Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, small, hot tears from the irritating gripping feeling, like she'd had the hairs plucked from her scalp individually.

Vegeta froze for a moment when he smelt the salty tears. He hadn't meant to hurt the woman. Damn these earthlings and them being so weak. He took a look at the rubber hat in his hand and could see several blue strands of hair, so without further ado, he threw the hat to the pool edge and turned away from the crying woman.

Bulma calmed, then turned towards Vegeta who seemed to be acting like he hadn't done anything at all. She instantly launched herself at him, punching him in the arm, splashing plenty of water into his eyes and actually gaining a satisfying reaction from him. "What the hell did you do that for, jerk!" she continued to attack him like a deranged cat, almost causing a whirl pool, while Vegeta flinched and admittedly found the whole situation rather entertaining.

He let her punch and scratch him because there was no way she could cause him any physical harm, and he was too tired to fight back with her. He just waited for her to get it out of her system, and when he saw that she was running out of fuel, he grabbed both of her wrists and lifted her slightly so that her feet were a couple of inches from the ground.

Soon enough the room grew quiet again, aside from the quaint spa music and Bulmas exasperated panting. With her mind clouded with rage and her scalp still tingling with prickles of pain, Bulma hadn't even begun to see the smouldering look in Vegetas eyes. He had her right where he wanted her and it was perfect. A clump of matted hair was sticking up almost vertically and the rest was completely dishevelled and damp, but she looked wild and it was drawing him in, once again.

Bulma lifted her head, accepting her defeat, and locked eyes with him, immediately feeling the warmth of his body emanating through the cold water. The water never felt so cold.

Completely dazed, Vegeta pulled her closer, earning a tiny squeak of shock from Bulma. There was no way she had expected him to act like this again. This man was a complete mystery and yet there was a predictable pattern forming. A funny thing it had become. A month ago, Bulma would have planned something like this to happen, but now she had practically given up on the idea and accepted that they were a one-off thing. Who would have thought…?

She grinned a small grin.

A couple of seconds passed and Bulmas breathing accelerated dramatically, seeing the growing look of hunger in Vegetas eyes. Right now the water temperature seemed to have plummeted and the only way of regaining some warmth was to dive into Vegetas embrace. He obviously had the same idea, when he drew her in closer and captured her wet lips in to a deep kiss, instantly dominating her mouth and sending electronic waves around the entire room.

Bulma instantly wrapped her arms around his neck and took to the passion of the kiss, tilting her head back slightly and allowing him to push her gently, away from the wall. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that they were right in the middle of the pool and their feverish making out had created a pattern of waves, almost crashing against the sides of the pool.

Vegeta gripped on to her waist and lifted her from the floor, stopping their movement. A part of him was screaming for him to stop, saying that he had come so far, but the other half was asking him what the point was. What was the point in fighting his desire? He felt powerful when he was with her, so why not use that to his advantage?

Bulma gladly accepted his affection. Thinking that even a month had been too long without his touch and not caring about what had been done in the past. The point was the present and right now he was here and he wanted her. The passion was too massive to knock aside or claim that it was in the name of lust. This was something else. She had known this for a while now.

Minutes past like seconds as the pair grew quiet, focusing on each other's body rhythm, tiny sighs of pleasure and the water sloshing around and between them. Vegeta gently pulled down the straps of Bulmas costume on either sides of her shoulders and she dropped her arms, allowing him to remove it down to her waist where she then, pulled the entire thing off and kicked it somewhere under the water. Now that they were both naked, the intensity of the moment became unbearable.

He took his time to gaze at her beauty. The previous times they had engaged in fornication, it had been quite quick and heated, but this time was unusually calm. Drinking in her curves from head to toe and back again, he connected her with an adoring gaze; his frown loosened but still apparent. The blue water was reflecting on to her skin, making her seem like some sort of Goddess and for some reason, he felt almost honoured to be in her presence at that moment.

This woman…

Bulma made her decision.

She sighed heavily in contentment before moving towards him and locking her arms around his moist neck, where he in turn, lifted her from her backside and they made their connection.

The idea of making love in a swimming pool was appealing but it became very unrealistic when they struggled to maintain a steady balance while standing up. So they had moved from the pool to the pool side, which was unbelievably uncomfortable but equally as pleasurable when they both reached their peak, one after the other. The sound of Bulmas scream echoing around the room, sent Vegeta somewhere else and before he could comprehend that she was satisfied, he climaxed as well.

* * *

><p>Putting his shorts back on, Vegeta felt strange. He watched as she wrapped a towel around her slender figure and went around the pool edge, blowing out each individual candle, then making her way towards him and stopping when she was a few inches away.<p>

He tensed his muscles, now realising what he had gotten himself into again. But this woman…

Her blue orbs met his dark eyes for a couple of seconds, one of her hands holding on to the top of the towel she was wearing and the other reaching up for Vegetas face. The warmth of her hand on his skin was relaxing and his frown loosened in to an emotion she couldn't read.

What was going through his mind…?

The doors blew open. Bulma kept her eyes on Vegeta, noting the immediate return of the frown.

Vegeta sneered. What was _he _doing here, again?

Yamcha didn't know where to look and almost choked upon the sight he had run into. He stuttered, "Oh-uh…" and took a step back, his shoulders tight and his arms pointing to the floor, like two wooden planks.

"What do _you _want?" Vegeta hissed, followed with a sigh, before he stepped away from Bulma, grabbed his towel and walked out the room; scowling and shoulder barging Yamcha on his way out. He wasn't planning on waiting for a reply anyway. Hearing what that moron has to say would be a complete waste of time.

Yamcha whined, "Hey!" Watching Vegetas back as he failed to react and continued to storm out the room.

Bulma turned around and sighed. Yamcha couldn't have turned up at a more indecent time, but she guessed it was time for their daily catch up. Oh the joy…

She smiled gently, tightened her towel and told him to give her a few minutes to change. She sighed. If she hears another thing about pregnancy or babies, she'd go insane!

Yamcha nodded lightly and watched as she walked into the changing rooms, leaving him for a moment to process what he had just seen. Strangely, he wasn't too surprised. They _had _been living together for a while now. But Vegeta? He didn't expect that the guy could spare any feelings for anyone other than himself. Surely Vegeta sensed his approach. So he must have wanted him to see something. Strange.

A small part of Yamcha felt betrayed and he wondered how long this had been going on. Had they been fooling around while he was trying ever so desperately to win back Bulmas affections? Was this why she wouldn't take him back? Because of _Vegeta, _the most selfish and arrogant man on the planet? And after all this time, Yamcha thought he knew Bulma better than she knew herself. He guessed he was wrong.

Vegeta was half way across the lawn when he came to the conclusion to leave. Now that he had gotten his feelings out the way, he felt the need to act fast before her yearned for her touch again. He knew it wouldn't take long. His fingers were still tingling from the warmth of her skin and the heat in his stomach was hard to ignore.

He felt full.

Something stopped him in his tracks. He froze for a moment after sensing something strange and unfamiliar, it was only for a flash of a second and he couldn't clarify what it was, but whatever it was, it sent a shiver down his spine. He blinked and shook his head, continuing to gather up his plans for leaving this God forsaken planet once and for all. When he returns, he'll fight those blasted androids, beat Kakarot and possibly destroy this planet, before leaving to conquer every other planet in the universe; reminding them that the Saiyan race lives one.

Little did he know, he had already begun to expand the Saiyan race without having to leave the planet earth, at all.


	21. Reflection

A/N – Seriously lolled at the spelling mistake I made in the previous chapter, about Vegeta wanting to conquer 'Plants'. Didn't you know he was an expert gardener as well as a warrior? Shame on you!

Italics = Flashback

* * *

><p><span>Touching a Naked Flame<span>

Chapter 21  
><span>Reflection<span>

* * *

><p>Bulma was staring intently at the large, moist mound in front of her, completely absorbed with thoughts about what was inside it. How could it be, that a tiny human being was sitting dormant inside of her, and she was completely responsible for its' wellbeing? Time had gone by so quickly that she hadn't had the right opportunity to marvel at the wonder of pregnancy; it really was a beautiful thing.<p>

The bath water was beginning to chill a little bit and Bulma forced herself to get up and out before she shrivelled into a tiny raisin. But unfortunately, being seven months pregnant had taken its' toll on her and after several failed attempts of shuffling from side to side, gripping on to either side of the bath and trying to hoist herself up by thrusting her pelvis into the air, she gave up and retired back into the lukewarm water; hoping that maybe one of her parents would walk by and give her a hand.

Steadily, Bulma immersed deeper into the water, allowing her sore back some leverage. Carrying a half Saiyan baby was harder than she had expected; she now really understood why Chichi was so angry all the time. Now all she was doing was anticipating actually giving birth to her child, which she tended to look over because from what she'd heard, it wasn't a very pleasant experience at all. Gradually, she had grown to the idea of being a mother despite the obvious initial shock, and now she genuinely thought of it as a surprise rather than anything negative.

The past seven months had been difficult for her and extremely stressful, but she had come to terms with it and learnt how to cope with carrying an extremely heavy baby. There had been many a day when she would break down in tears and retreat to her bed for hours, only to be woken up by her overly enthusiastic mother and be told that she must eat a ridiculous amount of food, otherwise her baby won't get the right balance of nutrients and vitamins in its diet. It was tough. Sometimes she felt like she was doing it alone and at first that's exactly what she thought, but she had her family and friends and after only a couple of months, she became comfortable and happy with the idea that she, Bulma Briefs, was going to be a mom.

The warm water felt relatively nice on her tired skin and the room was peaceful and tranquil, just the way she wanted. Her mother was being exceptionally helpful (maybe a little too much), buying her neutral baby clothes, helping decorate the babies room, ordering the most expensive crib and all sorts of little toys, books and teddies. It was overwhelming to say the least. Her heart fluttered each time she took a step into the newly painted room, thinking about holding her new-born baby in her arms, knowing that she had created such a beautiful creature.

Bulma closed her eyes and concentrated on the movement from her unborn child, kicking delicately, which was a pleasant change from all the other times she would fall victim to a number of fierce kicks and punches; sending her into vicious spasms and sometimes rendering her unconscious. It was funny to think about how she reacted when she first found out that she was pregnant and how she didn't have the slightest clue what to do with herself. As a matter of fact, she still didn't know even now, but back then, that was an entirely different story…

_"Bulma, dear. Can you just pass me a bunch of bananas? I'm thinking of making a fruit salad for desert." Bunny wandered in front, pushing a shopping cart with sheer speed as she scoured the produce section for an array of different tropical fruits._

_Bulma stalked over to where the bananas were and yanked the first bunch off of the hooks from above; they may have been a bit green and bruised but she didn't really care as she mindlessly threw them into the cart from quite a lengthy distance._

_It had been an entire month since Vegeta had disappeared off the face of the earth, literally and it was beginning to set in, that he was actually gone. She missed him, as much as she hated to admit. Yamcha was driving her crazy, rambling on about the same old crap and how he was actually looking forward to being a dad; she'd had enough of it. Ever since Vegeta had left, Bulma had placed herself into a foul mood with everyone. People were giving her quite a wide berth nowadays and she genuinely felt gracious for their respect, but Yamcha didn't seem to get the point._

_A shopping trip with Bunny seemed to be the only option of escape for the day, but knowing Yamchas persistence, he'd probably be hiding down the cereal aisle or something._

_Bulma suspected that Vegeta would be gone for a long time; otherwise he wouldn't have gone to all the hassle of getting a ship. Not that he actually went through any trouble, she and her father were the ones who nearly broke their backs for the prince, refurbishing and renovating an old ship to meet his satisfaction. Only, back then, Bulma was so besotted with the man that she would have done anything for him. Now she wasn't so sure. She was definitely still madly in love with the guy, but when she balanced it out with how much she hated him, she got a very neutral feeling; especially for the fact that he had vanished._

_Following her mother around like a lost puppy, Bulma began to feel that pal of dizziness again, knowing all too well what was about to come, but she desperately tried to prevent it by exhaling and inhaling extremely slow and deep. Her head began to pound, beads of sweat were crawling on her skin, and her stomach was lurching, forcing her to lean forward and produce very unfeminine noises; thankfully, noises which she was able to cover up with a feigned chesty cough._

_Bunny stopped, making Bulma automatically collide with the shopping cart, too absorbed with her rising nausea, and Bunny suddenly turned around with a full rack of ribs in her arms, practically shoving them under Bulmas nose. Bulmas eyes widened in horror from the pungent smell of raw meat in her face._

_"How about we have these tonight?" Bunny sang, then immediately pulled the ribs away from her daughter when she saw how pale her face was, taking on a great look of concern before the inevitable happened._

_A split second later, Bulma heaved and vomited on the floor beside the cart, causing a few passers-by to stop and grimace, before quickly averting their eyes and carrying on with their shopping._

_Bunny wailed, as if in pain, pulling the shopping cart aside and running to her daughters' side and then rubbing her back for comfort. "Oh, sweetie, that's the third time today." She stepped back when Bulma stood up straight again, right after seeing the flash of a camera and groaning in humiliation._

_Bunny continued, "How long have you been like this, dear?" She opened her eyes wide to see her daughter in an awful state._

_Bulma wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her cardigan, oblivious to her mother's question and far too focused on the fact that the damn paparazzi were following her again. She did feel a little better, though, despite feeling the same after every other time she had thrown up this week._

_"Shit. How embarrassing…" Her face flushed red and she turned to face her mother, gripping on to the shopping cart for support._

_"How long have you been like this?" Bunny repeated, bringing Bulma back into reality again._

_She sighed and let go of the cart, looking away from her mothers' suspecting stare. "I don't know. A couple days, I guess…" she mumbled, while looking around to see if any store workers were around to clean the mess up before a pensioner slips on it and breaks their neck._

_For the first time, Bunny frowned, seriously thinking about Bulmas welfare. Her daughter hadn't been her usual self lately and Bunny was almost inclined to ask if she knew what was going on because_

_shesure did. "You haven't considered that you might be-"_

_"Mom, please." Bulma warned, frowning and placing her hand up to cease her mother's accusations._

_"But honey, you have all the symptoms!" she said a little too confidently while scrutinising Bulma and motioning towards her stomach._

_Bulma immediately turned to glare at Bunny from the other side of the shopping cart. She had all the symptoms? "What? What's that supposed to mean?" she shouted and placed both hands on her hips, ready to engage in a fierce staring competition with her mother._

_The atmosphere had roused some of the other customers' attention, but they soon saw and smelt the sick, and so dispersed relatively quickly._

_Bunny placed a hand over her heart and winced slightly at Bulmas tone, "You know what I mean, dear." Her voice dropped an octave for a more serious effect. "I really think you should take a test. Just to make sure." She nodded lightly and ushered her daughter to step out of the way when an employee arrived with a mop and bucket; rolling his eyes and cursing to himself for always getting the shit end of the stick. Bulmas face flushed red again and she apologised countless times to the boy, who took no notice as he slapped the mop on to the floor with teenage force._

_When Bulma looked back, Bunny had sauntered off in the direction of the health and beauty section, so Bulma huffed and chased after her. The reality was, she had suspected that possibility too. She wasn't born yesterday and knew the symptoms, but getting herself to face the reality was excruciatingly difficult and it honestly petrified her. The reason why she didn't want to take a test was because she didn't want to know. Maybe if she didn't have the facts laid in front of her, she could pretend that it wasn't true and just a crazy nightmare, but then she'd have to wake up eventually._

The water was becoming irritatingly cold, but only so much if she moved. If she stayed perfectly still, her body easily adjusted to the temperature, allowing her to relax again. To be fair, she didn't really want to move. Being on her feet all day, still trying to keep up with work demands and helping her father in the head office, was taking a lot out of her. Plus, having to carry this bump around on top of everything; it was too much. When she arrived home that evening to find that her mother had already prepared a bubble bath for her, she was more than relieved and shimmied her way into the bathroom where her salvation laid.

Over the past few months Bunny had been a saint, tending to Bulmas every need. She guessed now that Vegeta had gone; Bunny was missing coddling someone, so she ultimately decided to tend to her pregnant daughter instead. No, Bunny was an angel and Bulma felt quite ashamed at the thought that she may have taken her mother for granted in the past, but now she appreciated her more than ever.

_A soft knocking on the door stirred Bulma back into the real world._

_"Bulma? Is everything ok in there, dear?" A worried Bunny asked in a shaky voice._

_There it was, right before her eyes. A tiny smiley face. A tiny, patronising, smiley face, laughing at her for being so careless. Bulma sat on the bathroom floor after making sure the door was locked so Bunny couldn't barge her way through and make the situation ten times worse._

_It was in her hands. The tiny little stick, which she peed on and then it told her she was due to have a baby in nine months' time. She couldn't think coherently, so she just sat there, staring at the smiley face and half expecting it to disappear; either that or she'd wake up._

_A baby…_

_No, it couldn't be. She'd heard far too much about babies from Yamcha. Why would this happen to her now? Also, Vegeta had gone and it didn't look like he was coming back. This child would have to grow up without a father. This wasn't the way she had envisioned her first child to be brought into the world._

_Bulma gulped and forced back the tears, before her mother asked again. "Honey?" Bulma twitched in irritation and blinked back to focus._

_"Nuh-wha-?" She let go of the stick, letting it clatter to the floor, and she remained sitting amongst a whirlwind of thoughts._

_"Are you ok, Bulma?" Bunny asked for the third time, growing rather impatient from her daughters' lack of response._

_"It's positive." Bulma croaked while shrugging her shoulders in defeat._

_"That one too? How many is that now?" Bunny's muffled voice said from the other side of the door._

_Bulma looked down at the small pile of positive pregnancy tests and quickly counted them all, then lifted up her head to look at the door. "Fifteen…"_

_"And they're all positive, dear?" Bunny said, just be brutally certain._

_Before Bulma could answer, she heard Bunny's hands clap together excitedly, "Well, I guess someone is going to be a mommy!" she chimed and quickly ran out of the room, presumably to tell Dr Briefs and the rest of the world._

_Completely dazed, Bulma remained on the floor and stared at all the smiley faces, before she stuck her leg out and kicked them all in to different directions; if she could just get rid of those patronising smiles. Who do they think they are, laughing at a pregnant woman?_

_Damn you Vegeta. Why'd you have to be so selfish? She thought as tears trickled down her cheeks._

_She stopped as her mother's words repeated over and over in her head._

_'I guess someone is going to be a mommy…'_

_The realisation couldn't have smacked her any harder and she quietly admitted, "…I guess so."_

Bulma snapped her eyes open, realising the bath water had dropped a couple of degrees and that sitting it in for too long might not be good for her baby. So very cautiously, she pushed herself up so that she was sitting up-right, placed her arms either side of the bath and carefully lifted her lower body up until she was standing straight. Leaning one hand against the wall for support and biting hard on her lip, she ever so cautiously lifted her right leg over the side of the bath and placed it on the spongy bath mat; sighing in relief.

Almost as soon as she placed her other foot on the floor, an overwhelming, shooting spasm in her stomach sent her to the floor in agony, keeling over and writhing in the intense pain that now felt like it was consuming her entire body. A small tear formed in the corner of her eye as she tried to overcome the pain, by rubbing her stomach delicately in a circular motion and whispering "there there", continuously.

"Everything alright in there?" The reassuring voice of her father sounded from beyond the door, instantly settling her mind, "I heard a bang. Are you ok, Bulma?"

Apart from the warm, tingling sensation all over her skin, Bulma was slowly coming back to focus and was able to realise she was in the foetal position, completely naked on the bathroom floor. What a sight she must have been. Good thing her father respected her privacy and chose not to come in, otherwise she probably would have died of embarrassment.

She sat up and laughed lightly, "Yeah, I'm fine…the baby kicked again." She smiled to herself and her father could practically feel her happiness from where he was standing.

"He's a little fighter, alright! Do you need anything, while I'm here?"

"No, I'm fine dad, honest!" She said while rocking methodically on her backside to try and ease the dull pain in her stomach.

Any other woman would have feared for their baby's life after taking a dive to the ground like she had. But it had happened countless times in the last few months and after attending many scans, the doctors confirmed that her baby was completely fine and uninjured, to her relief. It was strange, having to remember that her baby was half Saiyan and therefore could withstand quite a lot of pressure. Nevertheless, it was still a baby and she didn't like having to worry about it every time she collapsed in pain. Dealing with the pain was becoming easier each day. The first time it had happened, she thought she was dying, but now she had found a way to alleviate it, by talking to him or her.

It was happening far too often, though; especially over the last month or so. Every time the baby kicked, it almost paralysed her completely and it would happen at any given moment. Sometimes she wondered if her own baby was against her because it seemed to happen a lot in public, giving the paparazzi pure gold. Numerous times Bulma had flipped through the pages of a gossip magazine to land on a page with a photograph of her strewn out across the floor and a caption underneath it, reading : 'Bulma Briefs' wild night out' or 'Ditzy Briefs face plants the floor…again!'

It was a stressful ordeal, but her father would always be there to reassure her and her mother was there to comfort her.

She was pretty grateful to have them.

"Ah, yes. Before I go… Yamcha called and said he's on his way." Dr Briefs said joyfully.

Bulma fidgeted a bit before her bum became numb, "Oh, ok. Thanks dad." She sighed deeply as she heard her dad marching away, probably heading back to the lab again.

It was peculiar, sitting on the floor naked and listening to people come and go. Being pregnant for seven months really had opened Bulmas eyes to a lot of things. Keeping with her busy work schedule was tough, but she did have to cut it down to give herself a bit of time to relax and with that, she was able to watch other people go about their day. For one, she kept an eye on Bunny who, despite not having a job, would constantly run around like a headless chicken, trying to please anybody she came in to contact with. Then she'd eventually come and sit down to talk to Bulma and ask her when she and Vegeta were going to get married; ultimately provoking a much needed silence before she would eventually saunter away to resume scouring the building for someone else to harass. It was relatively entertaining.

Bulma had made her way through every single Disney film ever made. Yes, _every _one. And discovered that some of them were quite shit.

That was that fantasy out the window.

She also discovered coconut flavoured ice cream and nearly keeled over in ecstasy after taking one mouthful of the heavenly stuff. Trying new things had cemented itself into her agenda and keeping herself busy with little things, like knitting, which she found was difficult to take to and awfully boring, so after knitting half of a pink cardigan and realising that she could have a boy instead, she furiously lashed the thing in the bin; never to be seen again, but it was healthy and a good way of keeping her brain stimulated.

Walks were always on the agenda and Bulma discovered parts of West city which she had never seen before. That included finding a divine little coffee shop, where she managed to work on a few plans after sneakily retrieving them from the lab. Having time on her hands also gave her the opportunity to watch as the weather shifted through each season and the different colours surrounding the area mesmerised her and inspired her deeply.

But then she'd think about Vegeta. She'd think about him and feel angry, betrayed and abandoned. It had been seven months and he had yet to return and Bulma had pretty much settled with the idea that he wasn't actually coming back at all. Seven months was long enough to come to terms with that fact, but that didn't stop her from missing the arrogant prince.

Some nights she would wake up in tears after dreaming about his touch, only to realise she was alone. His presence had sunk into her skin and she couldn't just shake him off with the drop of a hat. No, it took her nearly half a year to realise that he had in fact gone. This time, for good.

A chill ran across Bulmas naked body and she shuddered, sat up straight and folded her arms across her chest. That's when an irritating thought came in to her mind. What had her father just told her? Oh right. Yamcha is coming round?

One thought merged into another and she closed her eyes; thinking about _that_ day during Christmas, when Yamcha stormed in to the building.

_It was two weeks until Christmas and Bunny had somehow managed to rope both Bulma and Dr Briefs in with helping her to decorate the house. Given the grand size of Capsule Corp, the job was no walk in the park and it had taken them almost an entire day, going round the buildings and throwing bits of tinsel around stair cases, balconies and wrapping it around lamp stands and coat hangers._

_Bulma and her parents had only managed to get round to pitching the tree up in the sitting , in the late evening, when the doorbell rang, followed by the intercom._

_"B, open the door." A wired voice said from outside._

_The Briefs family dropped what they were doing and stared towards the front door, and then Bulmas parents looked to her, gaining a grunt of disapproval. Trudging to the door, Bulma fumed. Yamcha had been driving her towards the brink of suicide over the past few days. As far as she knew (because she had been told repeatedly by him), his and Emi's baby was due pretty close to this date, but if so, why was he calling now?_

_Yamcha had told her that he and Emi would never get back together because of 'trust issues', therefore he felt obliged to go to Bulma for advice about everything. But after he found out that Bulma was indeed pregnant, he backed off a little bit and she only assumed that it was because it was Vegetas child. If any other random guy was the father, she didn't think Yamcha would have been too bothered._

_But Vegeta._

_He wasn't pleased at all and she knew this because he completely ignored her for weeks: not answering her phone calls, emails or texts. Now she knew how he must have felt the majority of the time…_

_In the end he came to his senses and explained what she had already suspected. Telling her that he was just 'shocked', obviously not considering how she felt when she found out! He also explained that he felt responsible for Vegetas disappearance, saying that it was because he hung around too much and scared Vegeta off, but Bulma nearly choked on her laughter when she heard that._

_Vegeta was only scared of a handful of things and Yamcha definitely wasn't one of them. If anything, Vegeta had left because of her, not Yamcha._

_Ever since then, Yamcha had been helping out much more than he needed to, when he should have been taking care of the mother of his own unborn child. It felt as if he was over compensating because he wasn't actively involved with Emi anymore and it was starting to pinch Bulmas skin._

_When she reached the door and lifted the latch, it swung open, knocking her back in to the wall. She winced in discomfort when Yamcha ran into the house, completely alert and shaking with rage. He scanned the room until he saw Bulma grasping on to her stomach in the corner, behind the door._

_He panicked, scrambled towards her and placed his hand behind her back for support. "Shit…Sorry…You ok?" he said as he walked her into the kitchen, completely forgetting his moment of rage._

_Bulma, on the other hand, was starting to feel more than pissed, now that Yamcha had kindly smacked the door into her tiny baby bump. She'd never let him live it down if her baby was harmed because of his irrational behaviour. She contemplated punching him in the stomach and seeing how he liked it, but then she gathered that like Vegeta, it probably wouldn't faze him in the slightest. So she bit her tongue and sat herself down at the kitchen table, watching as he paced back and forth in a mad frenzy._

_"I'm fine. What's wrong with_ _you?" she said instantaneously, trying to get him to stand still for one, God damn second._

_He stopped. "Ha! You're not going to believe this!" Then he began pacing again, while Bulma sat there in disbelief and slight agitation as she awaited the dropping of a bomb shell._

_Impatiently, she cleared her throat and thankfully he stopped after seeing the serious look on her face._

_Noticeably, Yamcha was wearing a plain, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows and smart black pants, and he'd finally cut his hair and gelled it up right. He looked rather important and really handsome-_

_"Emi had her baby. He's a boy." He stated, emotionless._

_Bulma instinctively rushed to her feet to hug her friend and congratulate him on his new baby boy. "Oh my gosh! Congratulations!" But as she hugged him and he stood rigid, she quickly derived that something was wrong; so she pulled away to examine him from a distance; her arms still precariously hanging on to his shirt._

_He looked down at her with bleak exasperation in his eyes, then he lightly pushed her away from him and she sat back down, ready to brace herself for the news._

_"It's not mine." He smeared his hands down his face and sighed._

_"What do you mean it's not yours?" she almost spat at him in disbelief._

_"The kid isn't mine, Bulma!" His dangerous gaze forced her to look elsewhere._

_She scoffed. After all the time he pestered her and she generously gave her time up to help him, and now he was the one having a go at her? Unbelievable. This guy had some nerve, shouting at a pregnant woman and scaring her half to death._

_Bulma got to her feet again and prodded him in the chest, earning a nervous flinch and ultimately calming him the hell down. "Now, calm down!" She shouted, "Jeez…" she sat back down in exhaustion and put her hand to her forehead, rubbing her temple with her thumb.. "How do you know this?"_

_Yamcha gawked for a moment, and then composed himself after recollecting Bulmas death threat._

_"He's black."_

_Bulmas eyes widened and she slowly lifted her head to look at him in sheer amazement. "What? Are you sure? Sometimes that can happen with rare genetics-" Was she seriously hearing this?_

_"Don't give me that bullshit. The kids real dad turned up right after he was born…I looked like an ass in there, B. And guess what? It'll be all over the papers tomorrow, no doubt." He sighed and plonked himself down on the chair beside her. She swivelled her body round towards him, but couldn't think of anything to say._

_The news was completely surreal and she had to process it carefully. A part of her wondered whether it was just Yamchas terrible sense of humour and she was merely anticipating the moment when he laughed and said 'nawh, it's mine really'. But he didn't and it was really real. He wasn't a dad after all. Everything he had been working towards had just been thrown out the window, only to be ran over, reversed over and then ran over again._

_Then he smiled. "I should be looking on the bright side, huh?" his eyes met hers sheepishly. "At least I'm free." He laughed before stopping, catching Bulmas curious stare. "Oh, yeah. Sorry." He laughed nervously and looked away._

_What was he apologising for?_

_Bulma cocked an eyebrow, swivelled around again, and placed her hands out flat on the table; letting her fingers dance on the wooden surface. "Oh, don't be. I'm kind of warming to this baby stuff now." She smiled._

_"Well, you have had four months-"_

_"Hey. It's a pretty big deal, even more so 'cause it was such a shock…" she trailed off into the memory._

_Yamcha had thought about asking Bulma about Vegeta for a couple of months. He saw it as a way to get some information out of her, so he could comprehend why the dirt bag Saiyan conveniently disappeared, when she happened to fall pregnant with his child. But then again, looking at her now and seeing how happy she was and how radiant she looked, he didn't want to put a downer on her mood; despite him already having done so._

_"It is Vegetas, right?" he chortled._

_Bulma scolded him, rapidly swiping her hand against the back of his head in one heated blow. She then spoke through gritted teeth, "Of course it is, jerk!" then crossed her arms and frowned._

_"Oww…Ok ok. I believe you. I just don't want you to go through what I just have." He laughed casually and rubbed the back of his head where she had struck him._

_Bulma rolled her eyes, "Oh, gee, thanks a lot, Yamcha." She chided, and then gave in to a small grin._

_Smacking her lips together and tapping her fingers along the table top, Bulma had never been more aware of a silence in her life. She looked across to Yamcha, who seemed to be staring into outer space, and humming a tune she didn't recognise. Without taking the situation into much consideration, Bulma had yet to see how Yamcha felt about it. Clearly he wasn't too upset, due to his current lack of phase, but Bulma couldn't even to begin to imagine how she would have reacted if she were in his shoes right now._

_"So…Are you ok, then?" she quizzed, bringing his gaze back down to her. Then a smirk played across his lips._

_"I guess so. Gave that bitch a piece of my mind." He glanced away for a moment and sneered before turning back and smiling politely._

_Bulma blinked, "Yamcha, she'd just given birth!"_

_"So what! The other guy turned up, so she must have known about it the entire time!" He threw his hands up in resignation. How could Bulma take Emi's side when the girl had lied to him for nine months? Nine months! He thought of all the possibilities and the effects it had taken on his training. What use would he be now? He had a limited time left to get some training down and was miles behind everyone else because some chick decided to lie to him about a baby. That wasn't cool and he wasn't just going to sit around and take it lying down. Oh, no. Right after he saw the other guy arrive in the delivery room and the sorrowful look in Emi's eyes, he had to do something drastic. So, he beat the guy to a pulp and shouted a few obscenities right in Emi's beetroot – red face; and then he was escorted out of the hospital, only to get straight into his car and turn up here._

_Pumped with adrenalin and full of freedom._

_Bulma gasped then scowled, thinking of all the things she'd like to say to Emi right now. "Well, in that case, you can wait 'til I give her a piece of my mind!" She slammed her fists down on the table and then wielded a coaster into the air, before Yamcha placed his hand over hers and lowered it back down to the table._

_"No, don't." He laughed, "We don't want you to do any harm to the baby, now, do we?" Then Yamcha scraped his chair back and headed for the coffee machine._

_Bulma snickered and rubbed her stomach mischievously. "No, this little guy is fine." Then she smiled knowingly, as if the baby had replied. Bulma may have only been four months pregnant, but she was certainly showing already. Unfortunately, she'd had to buy an entirely new set of clothes, which wasn't so bad, but she bought them, only to find out that several weeks later they were way too small again. The positive side was that she could keep going out to splurge on clothes every couple of weeks, but the bad side was, she was becoming more aware of how fat she was getting. No, not fat. Pregnant. She had to keep telling herself that every day, with a satisfied smile._

_As Yamcha prepared the coffee for them both, he really began to realise how independent and strong Bulma actually was. There she was, sitting there, four months pregnant and as happy as ever. Regardless that the father was a pompous ass who had disappeared and wasn't coming back. Well, he didn't know that as of yet. It was the more likely outcome, though._

_He carefully made his way back over to the table, with two piping hot cups of coffee, and then he placed one down in front of her, while he chose to stay standing; blowing on his coffee a bit._

_"So, Mr high and mighty hasn't come back yet?" He knew he hadn't, of course._

_Bulma rattled and tea spoon in her cup, watching the small whirl pool she was creating and with a very nonchalance 'tsk', she looked up and replied. "No, he hasn't. I don't blame him." She took her spoon out of the coffee and shook it several times, then placed it on the side, "When he does show his sorry ass, he'll forget about those androids 'cause he'll have me to deal with." A light sigh escaped her pursed lips._

_To be honest, she hadn't decided what she'd do when or if Vegeta returns. What could she do? She could only tell him the facts and she really didn't care how he'd behave after hearing the news because she didn't expect anything from him anyway. It wouldn't surprise her if he blasted her to pieces for being a 'damn nuisance', as he'd always say. As long as he didn't harm the baby._

_"Jeez. Ok, Bulma." Yamcha widened his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, swallowed, then looked back over at her. "Do you think he'll ever show his face again?"_

_"Urgh. I don't know... This is the longest he's been away." She pushed her coffee cup away and crossed her arms, "God knows where he is…I don't care either way, this is my baby." She said defensively._

_"It's his too, B. Besides, the guy left before you could tell him the news-"_

_"I bet he knew somehow and that's why he hightailed it out of here-"_

_"Nah... Man, I don't like the guy, but I know he's no coward. He wouldn't run away from anything, Bulma." Yamcha took a mouth full of coffee, hating what he had just admitted to her, but he had a feeling about Vegeta. Hell, for him and Bulma to even get it together was a mystery, so he must care for her a little bit, right? And that guy was unstoppable. After venturing into the gravity capsule a while back and feeling how intense Vegetas training was, that's when Yamcha knew, that guy was something else alright. He had planned to fight the androids alongside the rest of the z-fighters but for what? What was he getting out of it? The kid from the future said he was going to die, yet he was still as determined as ever to fight them. He was still and inconsiderate ass, for leaving such a beautiful woman when he had knocked her up, but like Yamcha had said, the guy didn't even know._

_Bulma frowned deeply and looked at her small bump, rubbing it again and sighing. "Hmm…We'll see."_

That was three months ago. It was unbelievable how much her stomach had grown since then. Still sitting on the bathroom floor, Bulma watched her stomach in awe, staring at the way her belly button had popped out, making her look like a giant football.

Vegeta…Will he ever come back?

She missed him. It was difficult to admit after all this time and after the pain, the depression, the intense weight gain, the tears and the confusion. She missed him and she loved him.

At that moment, the bathroom door swung open and Yamcha appeared. Panic sickened, Bulma scrambled around on the floor, grasping on to the bath mat and trying to shield her dignity, until it became overly apparent that she had far surpassed the size of the mat and her coverage attempt had failed miserably. So she screamed. "Get out!"

Yamchas face turned bright red and his eyes darted round the room to anywhere but the naked and pregnant woman below him. "Woah, my bad-"

"Out! Get out!" She flapped her hands around frantically.

"Let me help you up-" He mumbled as he was bending down slightly, and putting his arms out for her to grab on to.

"No, I can do it myself." Her tone was a little lighter and despite her insisting she could cope on her own, it wasn't long until she grabbed onto his arm and he hoisted her up with ease.

"C'mon preggo…It's not like I haven't seen it before." He grinned at the woman who was latched on to his arm and growing increasingly red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. With Bulma still grabbing on to one arm, he used his spare arm to lean over to the side and grab a towel, throwing it over her quickly. "Ha. You look like a giant tomato." He continued to laugh slyly, feeling her nails digging in to the flesh on his forearm.

Rapidly wrapping herself up and letting go of Yamcha, she scolded him. "Shut up and pass me another towel for my hair…" she berated.

He cocked an eyebrow, "But your hair is dry-"

"Just pass me the God damn towel!"

"Sheesh… Someone sounded a lot like Vegeta, then…" He rolled his eyes and threw a towel on her head, which she quickly grabbed and began wrapping it round, purposely ignoring his last comment.

After a couple of seconds of Bulma waiting for Yamcha to leave her in peace, and she had finished wrapping her hair into her towel, Yamcha coughed lightly and looked at her sheepishly. "Have you calmed down now?" he asked, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion of the ear drums. This woman was insanely pissed during pregnancy.

Bulma merely shot daggers at her dumbfounded friend, letting him decide his own fate.

Yamcha laughed. "Well, good, 'cause I've brought this really awesome movie starring Liam Ne-"

"Just put it on." She sighed.

"Sweet" Yamcha clipped in excitement and then vanished out the room, leaving Bulma in peace.

Once fully clothed in her maternity pyjamas, Bulma sat on her bed and began rubbing her belly again, feeling exasperated even though she hadn't done anything remotely productive in hours. What was this baby doing to her?

"You need to hurry up and be born, kid. You're driving mommy crazy…Either that or it's your uncle Yamcha." She rolled her eyes as she whispered to her bump.

Looking back at the last seven months had shown Bulma that she was now ready to be a mother. Despite the few speed bumps on the way, she could now confirm that she was severely anticipating her baby's arrival and was excited to find out what the sex of the baby was. She'd had the opportunities to find out, but she wanted to wait until the birth; she felt it was more special that way.

A breeze blew in from the open window, and Bulma shuddered and whipped round, seeing the large open space in the centre of her room. Then she turned back and looked down at her bump again, "I wonder where your daddy is right now…" She sighed. "…And if he's ever coming back."


	22. Disappointment

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 22  
><span>Disappointment<span>

* * *

><p>It was finally that time again. An entire day of running around, accumulating several discarded toys and bits of chewed plastic, finding torn curtains, carpet, chewed table corners and banisters, you name it. A day of exhaustion and apprehension, searching for the missing subject, but now, it was wind down time; Bulma had finally gotten her little boy to sleep, with no help from her parents, of course. It had been mayhem over the past couple of weeks, with Trunks teething, screaming and nibbling everything insight, including Bulmas incredibly sore nipples. But between that and Christmas on the way, Bulma hadn't even had a single moment of peace.<p>

Capsule Corporation were arranging their annual Christmas party which was in a weeks' time and seeing as the party was held in the Brief household, Bulma had no choice but to help out with all the arrangements; Bunny had gone through a lot of unnecessary trouble for this party to be spectacular and to outdo the one she threw last year. She was battling against herself, basically and that woman was a fierce competitor. But all this had to be Bulmas secondary priority because Trunks was driving her insane. He hadn't stopped crying for days and she felt helpless for her little baby boy. There wasn't anything she could do, well, nothing she wanted to do, it was part of his development and she didn't want to do anything to deter a natural process, but he wouldn't rest. Not until now, that is.

Bulma found a quiet spot in one of the spare offices on the ground floor, one where no one would be able to find her and wake up her sleeping child. She was sitting up-right on a plain, blue, two seated sofa, with Trunks beside her, sleeping in his Telly Tubby car seat because that was the only thing he seemed to settle in these days. Flicking through one of her dads old science magazines with one hand, and rocking Trunks gently with the other, she was finally starting to settle down, content with the tiny murmurs coming from Trunks. As she flicked through the pages, glancing at a few older scientists from the 70s and 80s, she came across a rather sinister looking man, who had a huge mass of brown hair covering his face, a dirty grey lab jacket on, strange, pale blue eyes and was pictured standing beside a huge chamber which was filled with some sort of dark, green fluid. The image was eerie and instantly sent a shiver straight down Bulmas spine. This guy didn't have much bio description, there was no telling how old he was, but in this picture he looked quite middle aged so he was probably around the same age as her father. For some reason, she couldn't take her eyes away from the livid look in the strange scientist's in the picture, but she quickly flipped the page over, glancing at the name before she did.

Dr Gero.

She needed to put a name to a face like that.

Trunks was unconsciously babbling to himself and attempting to chew his own fist, which Bulma detected and delicately pulled the chubby hand away without stirring him. He was adorable, that was for sure; wearing a blue and white striped t-shirt and just his nappy. He was an absolute nightmare of a child, but adorable nonetheless. She watched in awe as he dribbled on to his bib and blew small bubbles, which popped lightly into the air; time like these made Bulma feel so grateful for the gift she had been given. There was no doubt that she was meant to be a mother, she was doing a damn fine job at it as well and she was just waiting to receive the mother of the year award next year because she certainly deserved it.

Going back to her magazine, she carefully flipped the page over, trying to make as little sound as possible, when the door came swinging open, nearly breaking off of its' hinges and Bunny came running in with a huge cardboard box in her hands. Immediately, Bulma panicked and snapped her head towards Trunks, who was thankfully still babbling away in his sleep. With a sigh of relief and a palm to her forehead, she felt ready to listen to what her mom wanted. How Bunny had found her in the first place was baffling, she had chosen this room for the precise reason that it was miles away from where Bunny would be scrambling around and searching to nab the first person she saw.

Bunny placed the box on the work desk in the centre of the room, rummaged through it and pulled out a long string of green tinsel, waving it around in the air like a swinging pendulum. Bulma snapped the magazine shut and sat perfectly still, attentively watching Bunny as she cooed over a piece of tinsel. This time, she really had lost a screw.

"Bulma, wake up little Trunks, it'll be his very first tree decorating!" She said promisingly, throwing the tinsel back in the box and rummaging through for something else to mess with.

Bulma rolled her eyes. There was no way in hell that she was going to wake up her baby, when she'd only just gotten him off to sleep. Surely her mother could see the grey bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep, and the state her hair was in from the lack of relaxation. Waking Trunks up now would just be insane, he'd wail his heart out and Bulma didn't know if she could cope with any more tears today. "No, mom. He's finally sleeping-"

"It is important for him to do this, dear." She insisted, gaining a grunt of exasperation from Bulma, who threw herself back into the chair and crossed her arms in stubborn disapproval.

A few seconds of uninterrupted silence, and a few seconds of leaving Trunks' seat untouched, he began to wake up from the disappearance of motion and the discomfort of being completely stationary. He blinked back in to consciousness and then looked around with wide eyes, before recollecting the throbbing pain in his gums, reminding him that he must bellow out for his mother at all costs.

Bulma winced, turned the seat around to face her, unlatched all the belts and lifted her crying child out, hugging him and patting his back for comfort. "There there, baby…" If her mother wouldn't have come running in like a crazy woman, then this wouldn't have happened. She sighed and then glared at Bunny, who was standing there with a couple of baubles in her hands and a look of sheer joy.

"See. He's awake now! C'mon, we'll get some of the boys to bring the tree in. It's a big one, this year!" Bunny picked up the box and tottered out the room, leaving Bulma with her now, whimpering child.

Trunks was slowly lulling back to sleep in Bulmas arms when she decided to wave the white flag and go help her mother with the decorating. It was ritual, after all and she didn't want to break it after thirty two years, but she wasn't doing it alone, oh no. Her dad had been hiding out somewhere as he always did every year, yet year after year he was captured by Bunny and her box of tinsel. That poor man. Bulma loved her mother but sometimes she felt sorry for Dr Briefs, and how he had managed to live, with her, twenty-four-seven, merry ways.

Reluctantly, Bulma got to her feet and went on her way to find out where all the madness was taking place. Better just get it out the way quickly, then.

Upon reaching the sitting room and hearing the many manly grunts and growls, Bulma had the faintest memory of someone she once knew, but when she got to the arch way between the kitchen and the sitting room, she could see five rather robust men, hoisting up an over-sized tree. Bunny was amidst the burly construction workers with her hands clasped together, clearly in her element, her eyes wide with delight at the sight of raw muscles and her cheeks flushing with a rosy tint. Since Vegeta had been gone, Bunny had lost her bit of eye candy and now she had 'downgraded', as she would say, to the more local piece of muscle. It just wasn't the same, though.

All the commotion whacked Trunks back into reality again, and he began to sniffle lightly, attempting to cry, but when he saw all the people in the room and the massive green thing being propped into the corner, he gazed around with his mouth agape and his eyes glistening. Bulma crooked her neck to get a look at her little boy, overwhelmed by how entranced he was with the tree. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring him up here; at least he'd stopped bawling his eyes out.

Being seven months old and half Saiyan meant that Trunks was quite advanced, so without any hesitation, Bulma plopped him on the floor and let him crawl around and get a better look at all the new and strange faces.

He stopped right beneath Bunny and tugged on to the bottom of her dress for her affections, but the woman was far too focused on the men before her that she mindlessly stepped aside from the annoying pulling motion on her clothing. Bulma smiled when Trunks turned around towards her and gave her his best frown, obviously annoyed by Bunny's errant behaviour, so Bulma called out to her. "Mom…Someone wants you." She smiled and nodded towards the floor, which bunny slowly followed and then gasped loudly, causing one of the men to lose balance, thus creating a domino effect, but luckily one of the smaller looking men caught on to the base of the tree at the right time; steadying it and sighing in relief. There was no need for so many men in the room. The job would only need two maximum, yet there were three men holding the tree and two spectating alongside Bunny.

"Oh, my little Trunks! Do you want up?" She held her arms open to him, oblivious to his scowl.

Trunks, still on his hands and knees, simply stared at Bunny with disbelief in his eyes, and nodded lightly, before Bunny grinned and lifted him from the ground. "Oh my. You're a big boy aren't you, Trunksie?"

Bunny carried him over to the huge box of decorations and tipped it on its' side so he could pick out whatever caught his eye. She bent down and picked up a shiny, dark blue, bauble with a little snow flake in the centre and Trunks grabbed it and then attempted to chew on the spherical plastic; failing miserably to crunch into it. She then put him on the sofa, granted that he was fairly distracted, and she returned to the box, rummaging and sifting through the contents.

Bulma watched a little apprehensively as Trunks slobbered all over the bauble, which she quickly decided wasn't very safe for a seven month old baby, so she edged towards him and took it from him, replacing it with a dummy instead. Then Bunny gasped again.

"This just won't do." She said with her head buried in the cardboard box.

Bulma sighed, what could she possibly want now? "What's up?" she said with constrained calmness.

"This tinsel." She pulled her head out, along with a string of golden tinsel. Bulma cocked an eyebrow, while watching Trunks through her peripheral as he began to try and remove the teat from his dummy.

"Yeah?" Bulma urged.

"Well. It's gold" Bunny mumbled in despair.

"Looks that way…Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes, it is. I wanted the red tinsel." She sighed and threw the gold stuff back into the box.

The box was brimming with all different varieties of tinsel, there was green, silver, multi coloured streams, blue, but there wasn't any red. Trust Bunny to want the only thing she didn't have. Bulma blinked and stared at her mother, who was currently having a silent tantrum. Each year, as Bulma recollected, they had different colour tinsel on the tree, well; they rotated between colours even though they had all the colours of the rainbow and more in that box; minus the red. There was no use in protesting, Bunny would never succumb to any other colour than what was next on the rota and this year it happened to be red, as trivial as it seemed.

Bulma snickered at Bunny's first haphazard attempt at decorating, it was something she would never forget, but when she saw how deeply saddened her mother was, she couldn't help but sympathise.

"Do you want me to go to the basement and have a look?" Bulma feigned her enthusiasm.

Bunny perked up and her glossy eyes left the floor to meet Bulmas, "Oo, yes. Would you, dear?"

Bulma nodded and walked over to the front of the sofa to pick up Trunks, who was still violently chewing on his dummy with his swollen gums.

"Oh no, don't take Trunks. It's all dusty and smelly down there. I'll look after him." Bunny ran over to Bulma and removed Trunks from her grasp, and when Bulma saw that her son was unfazed by the turn of events, she shrugged and agreed, before sauntering out of the room.

Half an hour later, fuelled with many distractions from finding old baby clothes and some new baby clothes which Trunks had chewed through, Bulma was certain that this red tinsel was nowhere to be found. She had torn boxes open, toppled cases over and dismantled various trunks, all in order to find a bit of tinsel, but no, it wasn't there at all. So, now she was sitting on the floor, amongst the wreckage, trying to conjure up a relatively decent excuse which would hopefully deter her mother from fainting.

She threw her head back and saw all the cob webs, nestled between the large wooden beams, encrusted with dust and clumps of mould. Sheesh, this place was a wreck. The damp smell was tickling her nostrils and the dust particles were making her sneeze, but other than that, the basement was quite peaceful. From down here, she could hear the distorted muffling of a few members of staff and the noise of power drills and other various tools coming from the labs above.

In her hand, she had a large roll of silver wrapping paper, which she decided would come in useful for something she had had planned for a while now, regardless of whether he ever showed his face again or not. There was still a glimmer of hope in Bulmas heart, which was growing fainter and fainter by the day. Before she could dwell upon _that_ subject for very long, she was pulled out of her thoughts by the soothing sound of her father voice.

"What _are_ you doing down here, Bulma?" he said from the top of the stair case, beginning to make his way down out of sheer curiosity.

"Mom insisted that I bring her the _red_ tinsel 'cause she wasn't really feeling the _gold_ this year." She flicked her wrist reprehensibly and then looked towards the mess which she seemed to have created in under half an hour.

Dr Briefs did the same as he reached the ground and kicked bits of junk aside so he had a visible pathway to his daughter. "Ah, yes, that sounds like your mother." He chuckled and almost leaped across a pile of old clothing.

It wasn't often that her dad showed a great interest in mundane tasks, but today he seemed rather keen to help, so, gracefully, Bulma stood up. "Want to help me look for it?" She said, regardless of the fact that she had thrown everything around already and still not found the damn stuff.

Dr Briefs twitched a bit and looked around the room blankly, and then he met his daughters' bright eyes. "Sure, yes." He smiled under his lavender moustache and shifted across to a pile of plastic boxes which looked relatively promising.

Dr Briefs was over joyed with the current situation. After nine months of trepidation, and in hindsight he could now see that he was a fool for ever doubting his daughter, everything had turned out swimmingly. There was no doubt that she would be a good mother, but he didn't think she would do such a fantastic job and the fact that she insisted that she do it alone, only proved him wrong further. Yes, he had helped her now and again, but other than those few times, she was completely on top of things. She balanced her work out with Trunks perfectly and was coping with his teething problem rather well, but he was a bit anxious that by telling her the news, she might slip dramatically. And judging by her current state of contentment, he guessed she didn't already know.

They rummaged back to back for another fifteen minutes, each equally as engrossed by their findings as the other.

"Well, look what we have here." Dr Briefs said, snapping up straight and turning round to face Bulma.

Bulma spun around and looked curiously at the small, circular object in his hands, then gasping at the sight of the old piece of junk. "Oh wow. Let me see…" She held her palm out and Dr Briefs quickly surrendered, handing the pink object over.

It was covered in rust and most of the colouring had been eaten away through time and usage, but Bulma could still identify what it was as she flipped it over in her palm. "Gosh. I remember spending so long on this thing." She delicately rubbed the rusty, metal surface of the radar. The first radar she had ever made. She scrutinised it, trying to justify why the thing had made it in to the basement in the first place. "The radius was pathetic. It would only track as far as two hundred miles." And with that, she lobbed it back in to a random box.

Dr Briefs watched his daughter with accusing eyes, "Yes, but you learn well from your mistakes, Bulma." Then he spun round and resumed his rummaging.

Bulma pondered as to whether there was a hidden message implanted within his words,"Hm, you got that right!" But she shrugged it off indifferently and began scouring through a pile of clothes, just in case something interesting cropped up.

The silence emanated, and soon the task became too laborious for Bulma to continue any longer. She sighed heavily, trying to prompt some form of conversation from her father, who was being unusually quiet for her liking. Thankfully, he gradually turned to face her and what ensued was the inevitable.

He crossed his arms and fiddled with his moustache, before glancing up at Bulma and then up at the ceiling. "Have you spoken to Vegeta, yet?" he almost threw the words at her.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow, contemplating her fathers' lack of awareness, before she laughed lightly and crossed her arms confidently. "Well, with him being in outer-space and all-"

"Hm, right…" he stuttered, "I'm sure I saw the boy heading towards the gym about an hour ago." He mused; unfazed by the emotions he was stirring in Bulma.

Trying to sound nonchalance, she coughed lightly before speaking, forcing back the anger in her voice. If her dad's words were true, then Vegeta was home and had been home for some time now, without even considering seeing her or Trunks. But this was all theory right? "What?" Bulma said, her voice breaking an octave higher.

Instantly chastising himself for opening his mouth, he sighed in defeat and answered his daughter. "Yes…He arrived earlier today, but I can't say where he has misplaced his ship... I honestly can't believe you didn't know this already."

Immediately, an electric shock split down her spine and provoked Bulma to shudder in angst, it engulfed her body and harboured a new and strange emotion. She didn't know what kind of feeling it was, but it wasn't pleasant. Everything about it was screaming anger or rage, but a small part of her was…excited? The man who had been away for over a year and who had impregnated her was back. He was back? The situation was hard to comprehend and her words stumbled out of her lips.

"Whu-why didn't you tell me this sooner?" She took a step back and balled her fists, digging her nails into her palms.

Skeptically, he answered, "I assumed you already knew." He would have guessed she had been tracking Vegeta, but now he had been proven wrong, again. His daughter kept proving that she was stronger than he thought; he felt ashamed.

"N-no, no. I didn't know." She looked around the room, overwhelmed with the discovery and trying to avoid the betrayal that was her father.

Anxiously, Dr Briefs scanned the room until his eyes landed on his saviour; he ran over and grabbed it. "Well, I've found the tinsel." He said hopefully, holding it in both hands, but Bulma, with her back to him, continued to stare at the floor in bewilderment.

"So you've known all along?" she cocked her head towards him and he lowered his arms, letting the tinsel drape to the floor, as he precariously held on to it.

"What, exactly?" he replied.

She turned to face him, "You must have known that he was approaching earth…"

"Ahh…Well-"

"Why didn't you tell me, dad?" Her voice was emotionless; too tired from looking after her baby all day, it was taking its toll on her.

"I assumed you wouldn't be too concerned."

As the words lingered in the air, Bulma realised that her dad was right not to tell her, in a way. He'd obviously hoped that she wouldn't be concerned about a man who had left her without consideration, because she was an extremely independent woman and perhaps she shouldn't have even considered getting angry with her father. It was apparent that, for a while, Vegeta wasn't returning, so any hope of her seeing him again was futile. Plus, she didn't want to go scanning space to see if he was anywhere close, that would go beyond her better intentions. There was no need for her dad to take the hit. Fair enough, he knew, but he had also let her know, eventually.

"He needs to see his son." She mumbled absentmindedly and turned away from her father, ready to go looking for Vegeta.

"Wait, Bulma." Dr Briefs called out, reaching a hand out towards her.

"What?" she said stoically as she was already half way up the stairs.

"I'm sorry, but…Just don't expect too much from the boy…" he sighed and dropped his hand.

Even though she knew fully well what her father meant, she quizzed him further. "I don't understand?"

Dr Briefs hadn't expected this. He stood rigid for a moment and pulled his collar loose with his index finger. "Put it this way…" he sighed again, "If he wanted to see Trunks, he would have already, I just think-"

"I know… Dad, don't worry about me, seriously. I need to see him." She nodded lightly down to him and he scrambled around a bit, before finding his balance.

"Right, yes, ok…He might even be up there with Trunks now…" He said, flustered as he watched Bulma run up the stairs, and then he listened to her footsteps bouncing off into the distance.

* * *

><p>It took a lot of self-restraint for Bulma to come to her decision and after searching the majority of the compound for Vegeta, she gave up and called it a day, realising that her father must have made a minor mistake. Minor for the reason being that it could have been anyone he saw, right? Vegeta wasn't that different in appearance to any normal human, it was only normal for a man of her father's age to get a little bit disoriented now and again. Although, after flying round the house like a tornado, Bulma eventually reached the sitting room again, where Bunny and Trunks were both sitting on the floor beside the giant Christmas tree and were playing with all the different baubles, bells and other bits of junk.<p>

Breathless, she paced towards them and slumped on to the sofa in defeat, closing her eyes and feeling quiet distressed by the way she had behaved. She hadn't even planned on what she was going to say to him, so why did she immediately make it her mission to find him? The waste of space. If he wanted to see her then he would, she had been living without his spectacular company for over a year and she didn't need to change that, not at all. Besides, he wasn't even here.

When Trunks crawled over to Bulma, a plastic and deadly sharp looking snow flake in his hand, she picked him up and removed the weapon from his extremely tight grasp, replacing it with yet another dummy; one of the many she kept in her pockets because he was constantly ripping them apart. She sat him on her lap and bounced her knees slightly, making Trunks giggle in delight, thus making her crack a smile also. That's when Bunny turned to face her, still sitting cross legged on the floor, and then mentioned something that made Bulma's heart stop dead for a couple seconds.

"Have you seen Vegeta yet, honey?" She said it as if it was the most natural thing to say, closing her eyes almost immediately and continuing to pick up different bits of décor.

Bemused by the slight case of déjà vu, Bulma stopped rocking Trunks and closed her eyes, trying to escape the torment. "Where is he then, mom?" This was getting a bit ridiculous.

"Well, he was in the kitchen about half an hour ago and when I called to him, he walked away…He must be so tired from all his travelling, he's probably gone to bed!" Bunny began to hum a Christmas tune to herself, while Bulma stood up again, Trunks in hand, and then trudged out of the room.

The one place she hadn't checked…

That was over an hour ago and no, Vegeta wasn't in his room either. It was apparent that her parents must have missed the man more than she did, so much that they were beginning to see a Vegeta mirage everywhere they went. That's all Bulma could deduce.

Now she was in her lab, wrapping up a present she had made Vegeta during her pregnancy. The intention was to give it to him, assuming that he returned earlier, but he hadn't, and now with all the false hope in her mind, she decided to wrap his present anyway and leave it on his bed. If he did in fact show his face, he would be able to open it there and then only. To be honest, she didn't even know why she was wasting her time, but the whole ordeal kept her relatively busy during her nine months and it was a great achievement for her, nonetheless.

She grazed the wrapping paper with her palm, fixing the tape in place and straightening out the corners so that it was perfect and nothing less.

She carried the heavy present through the house and up the stairs, walking past Bunny and Trunks in the play room, where Bunny was trying to motivate Trunks into playing with his toy trains when the boy was far too busy chewing his wooden blocks. Bulma shook her head and continued to the vacant room at the end of the corridor, where Vegeta had once slept.

Stepping in there for the first time in over a year, sent a particular memory flooding back through her mind, a memory which she longed to relive for so long after he left, but now it was far too distant to dwell upon. Nodding to herself knowingly, she carried the present over to the untouched bed sheets and placed it lightly in the centre of the bed and lingering over it for longer than she had intended. It was hard to believe, but Bulma could still smell the hint of sweat from when he would train endlessly and then retire for a shower, and the freshness that was brought afterwards. It was as if he had been in there moments ago, although the room looked so pristine and nothing was out of place.

Bulma sensed that as her cue to leave, shutting the door firmly on her way out and leaving any of the attachments behind in the past, like she had done so for a long time; guessing that that present would also go untouched, along with everything else in the room.

Later that evening, once the tree and the rest of the compound had been embellished with glitter and whatnot, Bulma and her family were all in the kitchen, sitting around the table along with Trunks in his high chair. Bulma was trying to feed him, pretending that the spoon was an airplane, but the child was having none of it, slapping away the spoon and knocking it on to the floor.

Dr Briefs laughed at the scene before him, "I think the boy wants something to chew. He doesn't want any of that liquidized stuff." He said, waving his fork around as if he was giving a decent lecture.

Bulma turned towards her father and furrowed her brows, "Yeah, I know what he wants to do, but that's not going to happen. He needs to eat his baby food, dad. I'm not putting him on to solids just yet, he doesn't even have teeth." She turned back towards Trunks, who was now chewing his plastic bib. "No, Trunks, don't do that, it's icky." She said, lifting his chin up with her fingers and wiping some excess slobber from the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

Bulma decided that if she left Trunks for a bit longer, he would soon get hungry and would have no choice but to eat the recommended baby food. She didn't forage through the bustle of Costco and get over one hundred jars of the stuff, for him to simply lash it all over the floor. It wouldn't sit well. So she turned her attention back to her own meal, consisting of roast chicken breast, boiled potatoes, a garnish of vegetables and a Yorkshire pudding. Just before she was about to take her first bite, her mother cut in.

"So, have you spoken to Vegeta, sweetie?" Again, saying it so casually.

Bulma dropped her fork and her shoulders and her eye began to twitch involuntarily. "No, mom. Now why is it that both you and dad have said this to me now and I can't find him anywhere, hm?" She crossed her arms and then Trunks did the same causing Dr Briefs to chuckle to himself.

Bunny blinked, perplexed by her daughters behaviour, "But, he was down here just moments ago-"

"No, he wasn't-"

"He was, Bulma." Dr Briefs interjected, his attention solely focused on carving his way through a piece of chicken on his plate.

"Then where is he now?" Bulma said, her heart beating faster with every breath.

Bunny pouted, "Hmmm…I think he's gone to his room, or at least, that's the direction he was heading towards." She smiled and then forked a piece of broccoli.

Without hesitation, Bulma scraped her chair back and stormed out of the room, pacing her way through the house for the final time. If that Saiyan had been in the kitchen while she was in the sitting room and he hadn't even bothered to show himself, then there would be a murder tonight. The audacity of that man! Now she remembered why she had felt more uplifted when he was absent, because he was such a self-righteous ass hole with no interest in any one other than himself...

But why was her heart thumping in her chest?

When she reached the end of the corridor, the door to his bedroom was wide open, as if he purposely wanted to be found, so she stormed in there, only to be invited with the emptiness again, yet this time something was out of place.

Flicking the lights on, she could now see that the present was missing.

He had been in…And taken the present?

Silently, she crept in and took a look at the creases in the sheets where it had once been and absentmindedly, she began to press the creases out with her hands, until a turbulent whip of the balcony door stirred her back into focus.

She gasped and stood up straight, with her hands behind her back, as if being caught doing something she shouldn't. Then she saw him, it was him. After all this time.

Trying to think rationally and failing miserably, she caught her breath in her throat and edged forward a bit, getting a better look at him. He had one arm leaning on the door way, and the other one rapped around the handle and he stood there with a vague expression on his face. He was clad in dark combat pants and a black vest top, so he must have been wandering around the compound for a while, after all, because the only clothes he took with him to space were his training clothes. Bulma looked at his hair, still as vertical as ever and strangely enough, it was the same length, he must have had it cut or something.

She was brought out of her thoughts when he proceeded to walk into the room and slide the door shut behind him; his back facing her for a while.

Something about his presence was unusual, he had certainly changed, but how? "V-Vegeta?" she suddenly forgot about all the anger and took another step towards him, making him flinch and turn around as if to stop her advancing any further.

He didn't want to look at her, not after so long, but when their eyes met, he couldn't stop himself from drawing a sharp breath from her beauty. Her clothing had somehwhat changed, she wasn't wearing those skimpy shorts, regardless of the weather, instead she was wearing a snug fitted, body length jumper. Her hair was different as well; it was shorter than before but still as enticing as ever. Blinking and looking away, he frowned. He hadn't come here to stare at her, nor did he come back to chat. He wanted to rest and that was all.

Bulma placed her hands on her hips and scrutinised the man before her, "So, how long were you planning on sneaking around for?" she said with an underlying tone of elation.

He crossed his arms and met her eyes, her wide, pools of blue. "Hn. Don't is ridiculous. Now get out of my way." He moved a threatening step closer to her, determined to remove her without having to physically touch her. God forbid he touch her again. There wasn't time for the mindless chatter, he desperately wanted sleep.

"Well, hello to you too, Vegeta. Jeez…" It was as if he had never left. Bulma rolled her eyes and stood her ground.

"Woman, if you've just come to scream down my ear then you can get out!" he said raucously, pointing towards the exit and glaring deep into her eyes.

Bulma sighed in contempt and dropped her arms to her sides. "No, I haven't." she looked passed him, "As much as you deserve it…You know why I'm here, well, at least I assume so." There was no way he didn't know already and regardless of the situation she didn't think he'd act any differently anyway.

Vegeta stared at her, waiting for the inevitable, the sole reason he had been actively avoiding her in the first place.

"Your son, Vegeta. Our son…Trunks." She elaborated when she saw the look of bewilderment on his face. Then he sighed.

"The half breed brat, you mean?" He chided and walked over towards his bed, as if it was common to slander the name of your own child.

"Watch it, mister. That is your son you're talking about!" she berated and grit her teeth together. "Have you even been to see him?"

He had, briefly. As soon as he arrived back he could sense a strange but distinctive ki and he panicked. Undoubtedly, a rage set in his bones and he wanted to leave again and never return, but he had come too far to run away. When he got closer to the house, he heard the laughter and the babbling of an infant and an overwhelming sickly feeling coursed through his body, so he stopped and turned around. Feeling the need to clear his head, before entering the house when fuelled with all the strange and new emotions buzzing through his mind. First, he felt betrayed that this woman had lied to him and seduced him on a few occasions when he was in the false knowledge that she couldn't conceive a child. Second, he didn't want to be a father and still didn't. Third, he felt ashamed. Ashamed that he had disgraced the Saiyan name by doing something that was so impure and beyond royal stature, that it made him feel sick to even look at the child. But when he came back, out of curiosity, to have a look at what the boy was like, there was no denying that it was his child, indeed. The face and the eyes, but not the hair. Definitely not the hair. That hair was an abomination. But the strength that the child harboured already was astonishing and that was just by looking at him.

Before the old witch could lure him in to hanging around, he left to recommence some more training, not that he had much more to do.

During that time, he was able to shout and curse to himself; mentally beating himself to the ground for being so carless and _oblivious_. All the time he had spent in space and he had triumphed, unbeknown to the disaster that he had left behind. Exactly, though. He had left it _behind_ and after the androids came he had planned to do the same. He was stronger now, in many ways than one; he couldn't let a foolish woman and a blasted child stop him from conquering the universe.

"I have seen him, yes." He stated, waiting beside his bed impatiently.

"Not properly, you haven't." Bulma quickly reaffirmed.

"What is there to see? It's a brat, they're all the same." He lied; this brat certainly resembled a Saiyan child in some ways.

Bulma scoffed and threw her arms up in feigned defeat, "Unbelievable…"

A thick silence hung in the room, beckoning Bulma to leave, but she couldn't and as the anger and dejection began to set itself into blood again, she felt prompted to ask the questions that were pressing into her skull. "What are you doing here, anyway? Why are you back?" She said firmly, a part of her hoping that he would get up and leave again, so she could resume her life the way she had conditioned herself to live. It wasn't fair for him to show up like this again, now all the emotions were flooding back in her heart and she didn't know how to deal with them.

"I have achieved what I set out to achieve. There is nothing more to do other than wait." He said proudly and crossed his arms again.

"But why here – wait, so, you're a super Saiyan?" her eyes widened in anticipation.

Vegeta smirked and nodded lightly.

"Well, I'm pleased for you, really." She said genuinely, secretly wanting to run over to him and congratulate him, but even so, he didn't deserve it. For some reason, the fact that he had finally received what had worked so hard for, and that she had been left behind, it made her feel envious and maddened. But she couldn't deny the slight warmth in her chest when she saw the happiness on his face.

She still wanted him to be happy.

Then he frowned, "Have you anything else to say, or can you leave me in peace?"

"So what? That's it? You're not even going to see your child?" Her voiced was laced with anger now.

"Did you not hear me? I have seen the brat!" He clenched his fists and tried his hardest not to lash out at the woman who was intruding into his quarters. "He is your concern, not mine."

Taken back by a substantial amount, Bulma literally took a few steps back in shock. Was he seriously being this cold? He didn't care? But if he didn't care he wouldn't have come back here; to this particular place. There is plenty more room on this planet, but he chose to come back to Capsule Corp. That must mean _something_.

Bulma opened her mouth but wasn't able to form any coherent response, until she exhaled calmly and had another go at it. "He is your _son_, Vegeta. Of course he is your concern, whether you like it or not." She began to massage her temples as a migraine was presenting itself at the most indecent time.

"Listen." The situation was imminent and therefore he had no other choice but to be brutal. "You have gotten yourself in this mess and I will _not _be tied down to this worthless mud ball because of some whore with a severe lack of self-control-" He sneered.

As the words came out of his mouth, Bulma made her advancements and smacked him hard across the face, which he had allowed her to do. "You – _dare_ speak to me like that", she said as the hot tears formed around her eyes. "You have absolutely no idea, so don't come back here thinking the world revolves around you because it doesn't. Here are the facts. You have a son, he is now seven months old, I have reared him on my own and I do not need your help. So what if you don't want to be a part of his life, that's fine with me." The pain in her hand from the fierce contact began to throb and cause her mild discomfort which Vegeta could see instantly; regretting his verbal attack.

The woman stood away from him and turned her attention to the black sky outside, and judging by the crease in her brow, she was severely contemplating her next choice of words. He hadn't meant to cause her so much distress, but he himself hadn't planned on returning to find that he had a son. The whole thing was a disaster.

"I can't say I'm surprised, though." She returned to face him with tears glistening in her eyes, "This wasn't about me, Vegeta. This was about Trunks."

In the back of his mind, he wanted to comfort her, but he'd learnt to push that way beyond the depths of his consciousness and now, seeing her in such a state, was only an image. He had distanced himself so much so that he wouldn't be affected by these human emotions, although something about the tears shining in Bulmas eyes, tugged a loose string in his heart, rendering him speechless. His defence mechanisms were very few, but he used them often when trapped in distressing situations. This was one of them, "Just – get out."

Bulma swallowed the lump that was sitting in her throat and nodded. "Don't worry, I'm going. Just expect as much from me." She turned on her heel and left the room. If he wasn't going to care about her, then why should she care about him? With him living in Capsule Corp, it would pose a small problem, but Bulma had all she needed and all she had to do was avoid him, it's not like she saw him much anyway.

He was just a disappointment.

The creaking of a door awoke Bulma, and she jumped up, completely startled that she had even fallen asleep to begin with. She looked at the clock on her bedside, 7:00pm, she'd only been asleep for an hour. When she turned to face the door, she sighed in relief when Bunny poked her head in the room with Trunks in her arms, fast asleep.

"Dear, I'm going to put Trunks to bed now." She whispered.

Bulma stood up and rubbed her eyes, "It's ok, I'll do it." She smiled half-heartedly as she walked towards her baby boy.

"Oh, ok." Bunny handed Trunks over, trying not to wake him up and Bulma took him into her arms.

Trunks was Bulmas world, now. She loved him to pieces and didn't want anything or anyone to change that, and seeing him so vulnerable like he was now, was one of the many things she cherished about being a mother. Having the chance to look at him without him pulling her hair out or ripping her clothes, was truly astonishing.

The door to Trunks's room was already open, making Bulmas life a bit easier as she strolled in and lowered him in to his crib. "There you go, my little warrior. Sleep tight." She whispered, kissed her finger and then pressed it on his forehead.

The room was dark apart from the glow-in-the-dark stars which were stuck on the ceiling. Each star was placed with intricate precision to match the stars in the solar system. Her son was going to be a genius just like his mom, no harm in starting early.

Trunks remained sleeping, his light breathing rhythmical and soothing, lulling Bulma in to a slumber of her own. She lay down flat beside his crib and gazed at the stickers on the ceiling, before her eye lids succumbed and the tiredness consumed her.

What seemed like moments later, Bulma awoke again to a bitter chill in the room and she got up to find the balcony door on ajar. Quickly and drowsily, she shuffled over to it and shut it gently, and without considering the possibilities, she walked out of the room and returned to her own.

Right outside, leaning against the balcony rails with his arms across his chest, was Vegeta. Why he was there was a mystery to himself, but he felt like he _had _to. Seeing Bulma like that, how exhausted she must have been, forced an uncertain emotion to surface. When he stepped closer in to the room and got a good look at his son, he felt quite…sodden. The things that he said to her, he wasn't meant to say, but he wanted her to believe the words because otherwise, he would not be able to fulfil his purpose here on earth. If she knew that a part of him _did_ want to see her again, then she would only assume something else. Something which he could not reciprocate whatsoever. He only wanted to see if she had changed or if she was with someone else, but that was it. As soon as he would have the facts, he would have left again. This was such a shock to him. Never would he have dreamed of being a father. Instincts told him to push them away.

The package that was left on his bed, he hadn't planned on opening it yet because he didn't understand why it was given to him. He didn't deserve anything from her and he didn't intend on taking anything from her either, which brought him out here.

The frozen air felt perfect on his dry skin. He hadn't planned on how long he would hang around for, but he didn't know if he could handle staying here for another five months until the androids came, plus he thought it'd be best if he did leave. Seeing the look in her eyes told him that she felt the same.

The worst possible thing for him right now, was a distraction. Over a year in space had taught him that he works best when he's completely isolated from any living organisms. And a woman and child were on the top of that list. He just didn't need it right now.

He exhaled and watched his frosty breath float in to the air, thinking about his next course of action.


	23. Agreements

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 23  
><span>Agreements<span>

* * *

><p>The party was just kicking off, a few guests were gathering in the centre of the living room which had been extensively transformed to fit the festive season and all its necessities. The usual, plush, green carpet had been torn away and replaced with new fluffy red, cotton-like flooring, which oozed under Bulmas toes. The cream curtains had been replaced by red satin ones, along with golden ties back and little golden stars sewn into the material. There were three crystal chandeliers, dangling on the ceiling, blinding several guests with their astounding reflectiveness. The coving around the ceiling had also been changed, Bulma noted that it was now shell shaped into many sea shells, all watching down and preying on their unsuspecting victims. If Bulma didn't know any better, she could have sworn she'd just strode into Neptune's castle, either that or some sort of upper class saloon where the guests would have to pay exponential amounts of cash to see a glimpse of a boob or thigh. Bunny had reformed the house to fit the social gathering, the air now warm with the breath of socialites from each side of the city, and the party hadn't even reached its peak; it was only…8:30pm, so it had been half an hour already and there were quite a lot of heads to count.<p>

The guest list rolled down to the floor when Bulma attempted to take a 'quick' peak at it last week, not suspecting the paper to tumble and take off down the corridor. When more people bobbed in through the main entrance, Bulma began to perspire slightly, almost ruining her new, red, skin tight dress which elegantly stopped a nice few inches below her back side. To her, this was normal evening wear and even though she had refused her mother's festive ideas for clothing, she gave in and reluctantly wore the dramatically large, dangly, penguin ear rings, that swayed uncomfortably as if they were going to tear her earlobes in half at any given second.

Taken in by the loud, monotonous clatter of the Christmas tunes, blasting out of the four speakers in each corner of the room, Bulma slowly searched through the growing crowd of fellow colleagues which whom many of, she had never seen before, and tried to find the catalyst of the inevitable social explosion. Bunny was most probably basking in the attention and the gasps of appraisal for yet another fine job at a Christmas bash. So when Bulma found her in the centre of a large gathering of people, she sighed and rolled her eyes, but she had to get to Bunny because Bunny was holding on to Trunks and Trunks needing feeding, immediately.

Bulma, being of regular height and without her heels on, couldn't see over the heads of the freakishly tall guests who seemed to be barricading her with a huge wall of flesh. Only one last resort sprung to mind, charge. She shoulder barged her way through, maybe adding a little run up prior, and lunged forward into the centre of the crowd, straightening up and smiling in triumph, while all the guests gawped and a few panicked from seeing Bulma Briefs in such a tizzy. Bunny shrieked with excitement, Trunks in arms wearing a small santa suit, complete with hat to match, which flopped lop sided on his head. She was too busy showing off her beautiful grandson to all of her guests, that she had long forgotten about his feeding time. But the buffet wasn't until 9:00pm…

Before Bulma had the opportunity to nab her clearly exhausted son, Bunny shifted her body away from her, extended her free arm into the crowd, pulling over an exceptionally tall, dark and handsome man, into the centre of the circle. By now, the circle was beginning to disperse and groups of people segregated into even smaller groups in various parts of the room, focusing on their own conversations.

The awkwardness of the present situation, manufactured by Bunny of course, was pinching Bulmas skin, as she watched the devilishly handsome man shift from side to side; also uncomfortable. If it were possible, it felt like the needle had slipped off the record, and the room had grown impossibly silent, but as it were, the music was playing from a CD, so that theory was out the window. Bulma had one arm pinned straight to her waist while the other was holding onto it in a feeble attempt of bashfulness, but how was she to know her mother was going to act so childish. Oh wait…

Bunny, loosening her grip on the man's arm, turned towards Bulma and gave her the best smile she could muster. "This is Philippe. He's French." She nudged her head in his direction and winked at Bulma, all the while Trunks was staring at his mother apprehensively, waiting for her to take him away from all the loud noises. He'd had enough.

Bulma shook her head softly, baffled by what her mother was trying to prove here, but either way, she extended an arm towards him. "Nice to meet you, Philippe. I'm sorry we haven't had the chance to speak yet." She said as his warm hand enveloped hers in the friendly gesture. There was no denying how handsome the man was, his thick, chestnut curls, dangling loosely above his wide brown eyes, which were seemingly, looking deeply into hers. The particular deep stare which led her astray and too distracted to notice her mother dart off and take her baby with her.

Philippe let his hand linger in Bulmas for a second longer than necessary before he dropped it to his side and placed it into his grey pants pocket. Although his attire wasn't in the slightest festive, he was able to get away with it by wearing grey trousers, a white shirt and a pale pink tie, which looked as if it had been tugged down a little bit to stop him from choking to death. He looked like an angel - that was festive enough. The pale colours contrasted beautifully with his perfect bronze skin, along with, what looked like, a platinum chain around his wrist and a platinum ring around his thumb. Pure class.

He didn't take his eyes away from Bulma. "Ah yes. It is ok. I have only started working for your company, Ms Briefs." His light and fast paced accent made Bulmas skin tingle, forgetting about all the people in the room. Something was nagging in the back of her mind, though, but she pushed it aside when his velvety voice continued on.

"It is fantastic, the work you have done for this company. I am truly honoured to work here." He smiled and fidgeted a bit, his eyes fixed on to Bulmas. Bulma noted this. The first time a man had looked her directly in the face, without casting a sly glance at the rest of her figure. She had watched Philippe closely for the few seconds they had been engaged in awkward conversation and he had done pretty well, so far.

She blushed at the regular, yet always welcomed appraisal and threw her hand in denial. "Well, I do try my best…Philippe, I'm curious, how long have you been here in West City? You've grasped the language pretty well." She blinked and cocked her head, heightening her curiosity. To be fair, she knew nothing of this man until a few seconds ago. How was she supposed to keep track of all her employees? Even though she would now like to know of all the other foreign workers. It was interesting to know how her and her father's company had managed to stretch to all of the different countries around the globe. That would be for another day, though.

Philippe took a few seconds to think, "er, I think, five months." He pondered a bit more.

"Gosh, I apologize sincerely, Philippe, I had no idea you had even started working for Capsule Corp." She blushed with embarrassment.

"It is ok, Ms Briefs. I am happy to be here and now I'm even happier to have finally met you." He smiled again and Bulma nearly fainted, before straightening herself up and looking him right in the eye.

"Please, call me Bulma. This is a party. I'm not your manager here. I don't even want to think about work. We'll save that discussion for another day. So, Philippe-"

"B, sorry I'm late!" The voice rattled in her ear and she swung around, almost disappointed to see Yamcha standing behind her, a vague look of anxiety in his eyes when he noticed what she was doing or rather, _trying _to do.

Bulma shot a look of disgust at Yamcha, spun back around and fluttered her eyelashes in an overly apologetic manner at the French man, who cut in before she could slip a word in. "Sorry, I must go back and speak with my friends. They will be wondering where I have gone!" He laughed faintly and parted into the mass of people.

Bemused, Bulma glared at Yamcha, who was wearing something similar to Philippe, pulling it off as equally. She couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

"Finally decided to show up an hour late, huh?" she teased with her hands on her hips, the penguin earrings flapping along with her movement.

"Hey, I'm here now and that's all that matters." He elbowed her in the side, and while doing so, caught sight of the jolly looking birds hanging from her ears, "Bulma, why are you wearing penguins on your ears…Penguins with little hats." He snickered, while examining one between his fingers.

Bulma snapped at him, shooing him away from her head. "My mom forced me to wear something Christmassy, so I have. It was either the fluffy penguins, or the death trap snowflakes." She sneered, fixing her long curls so that they hid the stupid birds.

Yamcha stared at her and then pointed towards the ceiling. "Like those things?"

She followed his gaze, seeing the huge plastic snowflakes hanging in various spaces on the ceiling. Each one as deadly looking as the other. She gasped and instinctively looked over at Bunny and Trunks who were thankfully, still alive and hadn't been impaled by one of those things. "Why does my mom insist on putting those spikey things on the ceiling, of all places!" She said, instantly forgetting about Yamcha and hurrying over to Trunks and Bunny but before she could make it, Dr Briefs turned down the music and tapped a spoon lightly on an empty wine glass.

All the guests stopped what they were doing and instantaneously turned to face Bunny, who was positioned in front of a long table, with a satin sheet covering the top of it. Bulma stopped about two metres away from her mother, anxiously watching Trunks, who was sucking his thumb, and looking around at all the different faces; ignoring his own mother.

Once Bunny had accumulated everyone's attention, she adjusted Trunks in her arms, and shouted. "The buffet is now open!" Then she was almost crushed by a stampede of starving guests who had skipped their evening meals so that they were hungry enough to eat at this party. All but Yamcha, who had eaten KFC before coming, but still managed to find the ambition to gorge another meal.

Amongst the crowd, being shoulder barged, shoved and tugged, stood Bulma, sighing in contentment at the normality in her life.

* * *

><p>All of the guests had moved off in to various rooms around the house, some being in the kitchen with Bunny, sipping wine and nibbling cheese, others were gathering in the dining room where Dr Briefs was showing off his vintage liquors which were lined up the huge glass cabinet, while most were still lingering in the sitting room. Bulma was on the sofa, along with Yamcha and Philippe, who she had cunningly nabbed from a large group of workers.<p>

They conversed about various topics, including travel and mechanics, despite Philippe going off on a tangent which always led into to baseball, thus knocking Bulma out of the conversation completely. She'd coddled and fed Trunks over two hours ago and now she knew, looking at the time and seeing that it was past midnight, it was way past Trunks' bed time.

"Yeah, man. The league begins again right after the holidays; I can get you a ticket for free!" Yamcha announced proudly, a glass of JD and coke in his hand.

Philippe nodded like one of those nodding dogs you have in the back of your car, and Bulma wasn't even convinced if he was truly listening or not; which wasn't surprising once Yamcha began to waffle on about something. She assumed that he'd slipped into a common subject without taking in to account how passionate Yamcha really was and was now paying the price. The vacant expression on his face was more than enough evidence.

Shaking her head, Bulma got up and excused herself, heading in the direction of Bunny, who had been looking after Trunks for the past fifteen minutes. But when she approached her mother to find her Trunksless, she felt her heart throw itself forward into her rib cage, as if trying to escape through the gaps in between each rib.

Bunny was, again, surrounded by burly looking men, obviously from the construction workers of the complex, showing them all the different rose, red, white, cava, and other green glass bottles in the kitchen. They all seemed far too interested in Bunny to notice what it was they were drinking. It wasn't unusual for Bunny to gather so much male attention. She may be getting on in her years but the woman was still as radiant as she was when she was Bulmas age, and strangely, Dr Briefs didn't seem to mind her receiving all the other male attention.

"Mom, where's Trunks?" Bulma cut in, standing behind a tall man with curly blonde hair which draped down his neck.

Bunny looked around the man, delicately pushing him aside so she could see her daughter. "He's with your father, dear. Have tried this champagne?" she pushed a half empty glass into Bulmas chest.

Bulma pushed it away, "No, I need to get Trunks and put him to bed. It's way past his bed time." Then she turned around and vanished through the crowd, allowing Bunny to continue with her alcohol flaunting, with her army of keen observers.

With a slight itch of nervousness on her skin, Bulma entered the dining room, only to be greeted, similar to Bunny, with a Trunksless Dr Briefs. This time, with a lack of common courtesy, Bulma pushed a few guests out of the way in order to reach her father. "Dad, where is Trunks?"

Dumfounded, Dr Briefs stared at Bulma and showed her his empty palms, proving that he wasn't guilty of any crime she was pressing against. Without words, she spun around, panicking now and scouring through the area to find her baby boy.

As panic coursed through her veins, splitting her in half between a logic and illogical person, she barged past people, clipping them in the shoulders, crawling on her hands and knees to look under tables, checking the top of cupboards and units, but there was no sign of him. She understood that her baby was well advanced compared to other children and if he wanted to escape he would have a meticulous route to follow, one which she wouldn't immediately suspect.

Trunks had learnt to crawl a few months back, so he was pretty quick at getting around unsuspected; he had a huge tendency to crawl off at lamentably inopportune times, like when he was about to get a bath or go to bed, the usual. Also, his hiding skills far surpassed that of Bulmas.

Deciding to take the frantic search upstairs, before even considering that he had gotten out onto the lawn or worse, on the streets, Bulma charged to the bottom of the stair case, finding a golden piece of evidence at the foot of the stairs. A teeny tiny Santa hat and upon closer inspection, it looked like it had been chewed off in a struggle. CSI, eat your heart out. What looked like a vicious attack was actually far from it. Trunks was still teething, not as bad as he was, he was getting there, but he would still chew whatever he could merely out of habit. Of course, it would have to stop eventually; chewing through her best bras was just evil and the worst part of it was, Bunny had given the bras to Trunks to chew as a play toy. He wasn't a dog!

After searching for a further ten minutes in each bedroom upstairs, calling out for Trunks at the same time, she began to realise that the kid was purposely hiding from her and her panic subsided a little. Looking down the corridor, there was only one room left to check.

Vegetas.

Oddly enough, the door was wide open, and Bulma cursed under her breath for Trunks having to choose the worst hiding place to date. Mind you, he had hidden in there a couple of times now, which was strange. She had no problem waltzing in and out of Vegetas room because he was never there, plus, it was still her house so she could rummage through whoever's room she sees fit.

The belligerent Saiyan hadn't been around at all in the past week, not since their unfortunate encounter, but, hey, she didn't care, not one bit. She didn't like to think about him too much because of the backlash he had given her and, granted, she should have given him hell for it but she honestly didn't see the point. What good would come out of it, really? She had her son and that's all that matters. So for Vegeta to disappear again was a blessing in disguise. Although, trying not to think about him diurnally was fine, she just couldn't stop her subconscious mind which would push many of the repressed memories to the surface. She was sure her body was just trying to piss her off. Damn brain.

She walked down the hall, tugging at the tight straps on her dress and trying to loosen them a touch to give her room to move properly. Then she reached his room and strode right on in, whacking the light on and not considering whether Vegeta may have decided to plop back in or not. His room always had the faintest smell of masculinity and sweat, even when he wasn't there. It was like he'd left the smell there purposely to torment her, but he wouldn't go out of his way to do something like that, would he now?

It was deadly silent, even above the muffled sound of Christmas tunes still blasting out down stairs. She found, regardless of her former confidence, she was creeping in as if trying to go unheard. As if he was there. Sharply, she darted beneath the bed, squinting desperately beyond the shopping bags of clothes which she and Bunny had bought Vegeta, and obviously they weren't to his particular taste; that being the tightest spandex shorts and nothing more.

As far as Bulma could see, Trunks wasn't in this room either. She got to her feet, brushing the dust of her dress, taking the stupid penguin earrings out (they were just pushing it now) and then scanning the bare room for any clues. The last time she had found Trunks in here, he had been under the bed, lying on his stomach and kicking his little legs violently as she tried to pull him out. He was very adamant that he stayed.

Her eyes landed on the wall length, fitted wardrobes, noticing that the door on the one at the very end of the wall was ajar. She grinned knowingly and shook her head, approaching the door stealthily, "Nice try Trunks, but mommys' found you again." She whipped the door open, "Aha…", bemused to find a completely desolate closet; it didn't even have any clothes in it.

With her hands rapped around the handles and before she could even contemplate her next form of action, she heard a light ruffling coming from the top shelf, beckoning her to look up. As she did so, a shiny object tumbled off the shelf and clouted her on the head, knocking her off her feet, planting her bum to the ground. "OWW!" She interlocked her hands on to the top of her head, one of her eyes closed, while the other one watered profusely from the sting.

She kicked her feet repeatedly in an attempt to alleviate the pain somehow, but it wasn't working. The hot pain thumped at the top of her head and after a few seconds, she let go, allowing the cold air to caress the now, small lump on her head. Once she opened her eye again, she took a look around the floor in order to find the offending object. At first, for a shocking second, she thought it may have been Trunks, but judging by the lack of bawling, she knew it wasn't a life form. Her eyes lay on the object and they grew wide in realisation. She stretched across for it, then held the crinkly thing in both hands. It was the present she had given Vegeta the other week. The present which he had not yet opened, rather, he had rebuffed it and threw it into a closet which he never used. Fantastic.

Feeling slightly dejected, Bulma got to her feet and reached to the top shelf, trying to place the present back where she had unfortunately found it. If he didn't want to open it, then that was up to him, but she was just a bit annoyed, seeing as she went through all the effort of getting it for him in the first place. Without her heels on, Bulma couldn't reach the top shelf properly, even on her tip toes, but with a large amount of calve stretching, she was able to just about slide it…

"If I'm not mistaken, this is my room, not yours." A husky voice said from somewhere in the room, scaring Bulma half to death and causing the inevitable to repeat.

The object and Bulmas head became quickly reacquainted, as did her bum and the floor, but all of that didn't matter for the second time when she whipped her head towards the en-suite to see Vegeta standing there with a towel around his waist. Wait, so he'd been there the entire time? Watching her? Urgh. The heat of embarrassment graced her entire body as she got up off her arse, gift in hand. Quickly and without further embarrassment, she decided that placing the gift on the bed would be an easier option, so she did so with the greatest display of elegance, unbeknown to the fact that her dress had rode up her thighs.

"Where were you hiding?" She said casually, while trying to pull her dress back down as if she knew it had risen up all along. After the words fell out of her mouth, she blushed in embarrassment again, getting an eye full of Vegetas moist torso. Obviously, he had been _hiding_in the shower. She daren't look at his face.

Vegeta was just as bad as Yamcha, popping out of thin air at the most inappropriate times. She was trying to raid his room for God's sake. How inconsiderate.

He emerged slowly, almost in slow motion, clasping one hand over the little knot in his towel as if she was going to tear it off and attack him. He did deserve it, after all. "I wasn't hiding." He said, void of emotion, then he came to a standstill at the corner of his bed, literally two metres away from Bulma.

She hadn't planned on having another fabulous conversation with Vegeta, nor did she ever plan on doing such a ludicrous thing ever again, so she shook her head lightly in surrender. "Whatever. I'm going now anyway, so you don't have to worry." She flicked her hand up and began to pace out of the room, when a set of tight, warm fingers, wrapped around her thin wrist.

In complete denial of the slight pang of excitement in her heart, Bulma struggled under his grip, trying to prise his fingers away with her own. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be here. "No, Vegeta. What are you-" She closed her eyes, not wanting him to see the internal struggle she was having with the principle, and she pulled back, tugging her arm and balancing on her heels. "What?" she gasped in despair, her arm starting to burn.

Vegeta stood there, a stoic look on his face as he watched the woman struggle under his grasp. He wasn't trying to hurt her, but in order to stop her from walking out of that door, he had to take immediate action. He scanned her, the crease in her brow from the pain, the baring of her teeth, the tendons flexing in her neck. He hadn't looked at her properly in a while. But he hadn't come to stare at her. "When these androids arrive." He said, his words prising her eye lids open in shock. "I cannot be distracted." He stated solemnly, trailing off when he saw his own reflection in her unnaturally huge eyes.

She continued to pull against his vice like grip, half aware of what he'd just said but more concerned about the long term damage she was going to get if he didn't let go of her, now, blue arm. "Ok, just let go of me." She demanded.

Vegeta was momentarily stunned at how persistent she was with her attempted escape. It would never happen in reality, but he was partly impressed by this feeble human woman.

He'd had enough of the physical contact. He let her go, watching as she flew back in to one of the closet doors, a vague smirk of amusement on his face.

Almost livid, Bulma straightened up, immediately cradling her wrist and awaiting the dreaded pins and needles to take course. Her eyes snapped up to his, a crimson fire burning within her blue orbs. "I don't know how you did it on your planet, but assaulting someone _isn't _the right way to start a conversation, buddy." She frowned and then looked away from him, finding the door way a lot more interesting. The more she looked at him the angrier she got. What did he want? She had a baby to find!

While deep in thought and focusing her stare on the door frame, she hadn't noticed Vegetas invasion of space and when she turned her head, she almost died with shock. "What are you doing?" she gasped indignantly, flinching and pulling her sore arm away from the offender.

Vegeta didn't really know what he was doing. He never did when it came down to this woman. He knew what he wanted to do or what he had to do, rather, but whether he could do so correctly was another matter entirely. He quickly recollected the last time they had spoken and he couldn't help but feel ashamed for his verbal bashing. He hadn't come to apologise, no. He'd come to settle an agreement. If she hadn't distracted him with all her struggling, he would have been able to carry on with what he was trying to tell her. Foolish woman.

Unintentionally, Bulmas eyes met his, and she was curious to find what was hidden beneath his cold façade. When she looked, though, she couldn't see anything. Whatever he had been doing or wherever he had been, it had obviously done him the world of good because she couldn't see any emotions at all. But just when she was about to give up, she caught a glimmer or sadness in his eyes, a small glimpse of humanity within the Saiyan.

Now she was intrigued.

Vegeta took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose out of fear of giving away too much. "I won't do this." He frowned, but kept his eyes fixed upon hers. "It's not who I am – I cannot change. I will fight these androids head on, but it will be for the same reason why I even started training on this mud ball, before any of this." He winced as if his words hurt him and he tightened his grip on his towel.

Bulma gulped, not from fear, but because he was opening up to her again. It may not have been what she wanted to hear, but he was still talking to her which meant he must have felt some remorse for what he had said to her the other week. A girl can only dream. She wanted to walk away, scream, kick and maybe give him a swift right hook to the jaw, but she'd accepted that she could never hate him for too long.

"This planet means nothing to me. Never has and never will. It will only form as a plateau for my triumph as the strongest warrior in the universe. When that is finally recognised by every single living soul on this planet, then I will leave and never return." He finally looked away from her heart tugging stare, not wanting to connect to her inevitable reaction. The words were loose in the atmosphere now. She had to choose how she was going to take them.

Bulma couldn't quite comprehend what he was trying to tell her. Not that she didn't understand the actual words, but she hadn't been given any information which she didn't already know and acknowledging that to herself was, in a way, comforting. She knew Vegeta had an ulterior motive for helping with the androids, yes, she'd heard it many times. She didn't have to hear it to know. But something he said struck her as surprising.

She rubbed her arm tenderly, still gazing at him, only now she was looking at his hair line and running her eyes down his ear and jaw line. "So, you're not destroying the planet?" The room had never felt colder.

He nodded, still looking away, "That will be our agreement." His eyes flickered towards her.

"What agreement?" Bulma pressed, fairly. She hadn't been aware of any agreement. By Vegetas standards, the _agreement_ will be more like, his decision which she would have to follow without a say in the matter.

"Until the androids make their appearance, you will stay away from me. Is that clear?" Bulma didn't say anything, but just stared at him in disbelief. He continued, "I have no time to fall to distractions. Not when time is critical." Again, he shot her a glance, trying to read her silent reaction.

Bulma dropped her limp arm, perplexed by why he had to elaborate on his words. She knew he wanted nothing to do with her; he wouldn't have disappeared in to space for over a year and then go on to vanish for an added week without even seeing her or his son. She wasn't dim, so why'd did he talk to her as if she was?

Dissatisfied by the lack of response, Vegeta furthered his proposal. "Once they are destroyed and Kakarot is crushed into the ground by the bottom of my boot, you will be safe and there will be no reason for me to stay."

Somehow, those last few words wrapped around her heart. Naivety settled into her bones as she wondered whether he wasn't being so selfish after all. Granted, he still wanted to get the hell out of here and murder her best friend, but he wanted her to be safe, didn't he? Or was he just saying that to sway her in to accepting his terms and conditions?

Bulma wasn't concerned about her safety or even the fate of the planet. She was concerned about her son and his father. She didn't want Trunks to grow up without a father, it wasn't right. Not when he was standing right here. "But…your son…" she whispered dejectedly, already knowing the answer.

Vegetas frown deepened at the mention and he sighed. "He will never know I existed."

Bulmas head snapped up and she gasped. "I'll have to tell him eventually." She stated.

"I will be long gone by then."

"I – Why are you telling me this?" she asked, honestly wondering. After all the time he had spent away from her without any form of contact or knowing what he was doing, why now, was he willing to let her in on his plans? Why the sudden change of heart?

Vegeta looked into her eyes again. "You ought to know – I owe you that much." His jaw tightened, obviously the instant reaction from unintentional affection.

Bulma crossed her arms from the chill which was setting in the room. Or was it just from Vegeta? "You've been gone for so long... Now you've come to tell me to stay out of your way 'til you can leave again? I don't deserve this." She slumped her shoulders so low that it seemed as if she wanted them to drop to the floor. She didn't know why she was expressing her upset towards him, after all the time she had pictured a moment like this, where she'd push him to the floor and stomp on his balls. But now, now she was nearly reduced to tears.

"You will never understand, woman."

The false term of endearment boiled her skin, as did the assumption that she couldn't ever understand him. How was she supposed to? "Because you don't let me understand. How am I supposed to get you when you're _never _here?" she fumed, balling her fists in response.

Reciprocating the tone, Vegeta scowled and crossed his arms, risking the possibility of his towel dropping. "I don't want you to _get_ me. You don't want to _get_ me. If you only captured a fraction of what goes on in my mind – you would scream in your sleep as your nightmares eat you alive."

Bulma scoffed at his petty response. "That's not what I meant." She looked away towards the door way again, this time seeing Trunks sitting firmly on his bum, watching his mother and father intently; his little Santa outfit, ripped and torn at the seams.

"Oh, there you are my little adventurer!" She ran over to him and scooped him off the floor and in to her arms in a tight embrace. All the hatred and angst that Vegeta had caused her had washed away as soon as she saw her baby. That's when she knew. She didn't care where Vegeta went, or what he did anymore.

It was just a shame for her son, that's all.

Trunks had been happily sleeping in his crib, the one place where Bulma hadn't thought to check. The little Saiyan had crawled up the stairs, completely exhausted from a hard day of chewing everything, crawled into his room, climbed into his crib and the rest you know. That was until he felt his mom's distressed ki flittering from somewhere close. He immediately got out of his crib (He had been chewing one of the wooden bars for weeks and it was so weak that it snapped easily, of course) and made his way to here.

Vegeta had felt the brats approach for a while, but kept the knowledge to himself. He knew that the child would come looking for Bulma. He was attached to the woman. It was honestly pathetic.

Vegeta watched as Bulma rubbed her nose against Trunks', cooing over him and lifting him up in to the air and then back down again. He looked at them. Really looked at them. They were a puzzle to him. He was not the missing piece because this puzzle was already complete. He was not needed to form the picture.

Bulma stopped, feeling the scrutiny, and turned to look at Vegeta. Trunks was sucking his thumb, also staring at Vegeta with his huge blue eyes.

"Fine." Bulma sighed and then looked at Trunks with a smile pulling on her lips. It dispersed quickly. "We don't want to stand in your way... I don't - I never did." She looked at the floor, holding back any tears that threatened to surface.

Vegeta stared at her frame. Her perfect frame and perfect skin. He had forgotten what it was like to stroke her soft skin. He would have to just forget. He frowned at the thought, remembering that he was supposed to be satisfied by her acceptance.

"Promise me something." She uttered.

"Bulma…" He grunted in a warning. He wasn't accustomed to making or keeping promises, especially not from her, but he decided to hear her out.

Cradling Trunks in one arm, she used her other to point to the object on the bed. "It's Christmas on Friday. Promise me you'll open your present by then... That'll seal the deal." She smiled.

Vegeta looked at the gift, the gift from the woman he planned to abandon. Why was she so insistent that he takes this gift? She didn't need to give him anything. He wanted nothing from her. He hated blasted Christmas anyway; didn't see the point in the earthly festivity at all. He shouldn't have to comply to the ridiculous ritual of opening received gifts. The present had been placed in that closet, never to be seen again. Despite all that, he nodded, looking back up towards the door way, but Bulma and his son had already gone.


	24. Hope

Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter 24  
><span>Hope<span>

* * *

><p>Vegeta was staring at the ceiling of the room that had been his for the past three years. Everything about the room brought back some kind of memory, whether he was fond of it or not. The obvious memories sprang to mind when he looked at the cracks in the ceiling. The small, snake like crack in the very centre of the ceiling he had become, somewhat, fond of. After every nightmare, he'd wake up, panting and sweating with exhaustion, and he'd always see the mark on the ceiling, which only reminded him that he was no longer trapped in a life that he couldn't control. He wasn't on Frieza's ship anymore; the cold metal ceiling that used to hang above his head when he awoke, no. He was on the most unusual and peaceful planet he'd ever come across.<p>

Earth.

This planet was an enigma in itself. The inhabitants were the weakest species in the universe, yet they seldom suffered from the threats throughout the universe; they only seemed to fight amongst themselves. Bizarre. That's one particular reason why he disliked this place. The people weren't united as one. It wasn't like the Tuffles and the Saiyans, the people on this planet were all of equal strength and capabilities. Yet they fought great wars, battling with heavy weaponry and machines – much like the Tuffles. Even when a threat presented itself (when _he_ presented himself), they had no idea that Kakarot, their saviour, was in fact a Saiyan and had enormous strength. The androids will be arriving in six days and he, the prince of all Saiyans, will be fighting them in order to save the planet. That might not be the direct reason why he's doing it, but that will be the outcome. He was protecting this planet, and for what? What was he going to get out of it, other than the sensation of victory, coursing through his royal blood once again? Was it worth it?

…Yes, it was.

A ray of sun light was leaking through the heavy curtains and resting on his forearm. It was a pleasant feeling, he couldn't deny it. This place was peaceful but it was far from comforting. Most of the time he needed to be alone and living here would make that an impossibility. There would always be a hindrance. Besides, when he destroys Kakarot, that harpy of his would prove to be a nuisance and he'd probably end up killing her and the rest of that blasted family, so staying just wouldn't even be an option. Why was he even considering it, anyway?

A surreal blend of two smells was wafting through his room; freshly cut grass and oil. The smell tickled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, trying to make the smell last longer and imprint it in to his memory, along with a few other smells he was fond of. One, reluctantly so, being the intoxicating scent of the woman's skin, as much as he would love to forget that very smell, a part of him would hold on to it. Even now, after her keeping her end of the deal and staying a fair distance from him, he could smell the faint natural fragrance of her femininity, which sent him back to the time when he had taken her right in this very room. The memory was becoming more distorted every day, proving that what he was doing was right.

A loud clanging noise, followed by a fit of high pitch giggling, and cry of disbelief, brought him out of his mental rambling and back to the ceiling of his dark room. He tried to ignore the sound but the noises from outside were becoming louder and harsher to his sensitive ears, so he stood up and cracked his sore neck, as if he'd been asleep all night without moving, and then he walked over to curtains. Pulling them both back and allowing the blinding sun light to engulf his room, he was, after a few seconds to let his eyes adjust, able to see the humans cavorting on the lawn with the brat. He slid the balcony doors open and walked out to the railing, allowing him a better look at the scene below.

The first thing his eyes scanned for - the woman - was bending forward into what look like some sort of transportation vehicle. His eyes lingered on her behind and the tiny shorts which she seemed to have started wearing again lately. He couldn't see her head, it seemed she was fixing the machine which was no surprise as that was all she ever seemed to do these days, and coddle the boy, of course. Focusing on the laughter, his eyes shifted a few metres away from the woman, where the brat and the insane mother were sitting on a disgusting pink sheet, surrounded by an array of different, but pathetically small, snacks. The brat was clapping his hands while the old woman smeared bits of cream on her face and acted like she didn't know it was there. Then he would point with the most dramatic look of sincerity in his eyes, until she eventually wiped it off and repeated the process over again.

Idiots.

That boy could be doing more important things than hanging around with that dim witted cretin. Was Bulma insane? Didn't she know what sort of effect this woman would have on her child? He shrugged to himself. He didn't really care.

The scene, as usual, seemed too relaxed, as if their normal day to day lives were just going to continue through the next couple of weeks. How long would it take to destroy a couple of toasters, anyway? An hour? A Day? …A week? No, surely it would be over within the blink of an eye, he had no doubt of how capable he was. That was a no brainer.

Just when he'd had enough of the useless creatures beneath him, he saw the old man, striding across the lawn towards Bulma; palpable distress in his step. Vegeta shifted on the spot and decided to see what had got the old man so wound up. Not that he cared. Maybe he would find some form of amusement out of them, after all.

"Argh. You son of a-" Bulma sprung back from the bonnet of the hover craft and stuck her scorching thumb in to the moist sanctuary of her mouth. Far too focused on her pulsing thumb, she was unaware of her father's approach, and jerked when she saw him from her peripheral. "Hey, dad." She smiled and slowly removed her red thumb from her mouth.

Dr Briefs forced a crooked smile from beneath his twitching moustache and stiffened his arms against his sides like a soldier standing to attention. "Bulma, I really think you should reconsider." He twitched a bit more, then crossed his arms in order to look unfazed, but when it came down to his daughter, there was no way she would change her mind; not even for him.

She sighed, picked up a wrench from the floor and resumed her focus within the bonnet of the jet. "Don't worry about me, dad. Me and Trunks will be fine." She began to work on something which Dr Briefs was unable to see.

Her words send a splitting shock through his chest, and he stepped closer, "Trunks too?" he implored, clenching his fists.

"Yeah," she said immediately, "there's no way we're missing out on all the action."

Dr Briefs sighed in exasperation and raked a shaky hand through his lavender hair. Usually, it would be Bunny who would be fussing over the principle of the situation but for some bizarre reason, she was happy to allow Bulma and Trunks to follow the others on the day the androids arrive. Didn't anybody have any sense anymore?

"It's extremely dangerous for a child," he assured, backing off slightly, knowing that his argument was frivolous.

Bulma stood up straight, oil smeared against her forehead and shoulders, and she wielded the wrench, pointing it towards her dad's nose. "Dad, I know what I'm doing. Relax, will ya!" she smirked, and dropped her arm to hang limply at her side. It didn't matter what her father said, she wasn't going to be told what to do. It wasn't like she was a child anymore. Even when she was sixteen, he seemed to let her do a lot more things than he allowed her to do nowadays. She had proved that she was capable of looking after Trunks. Hell, it had been almost a year already. She _knew_ what she was getting herself into and she wasn't stupid enough to get too close to the action.

"I don't think-" Dr Briefs tried to continue, but was cut off by the sound of the bonnet slamming shut.

Bulma tapped it with a grin of accomplishment on her face, gazing at the jet with adoration glimmering in her eyes, and then she dusted her hands together. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll take this baby out for a test drive first," she smiled, picked up a damp cloth from the ground and dabbed it across her moist forehead.

"I'm not worried about the vehicle, Bulma. It's those androids that I'm concerned about!" Dr Briefs choked, casting a glance at Trunks and Bunny who were still valiantly carrying on with the cream gag.

"Tch. Hey, we've got Vegeta, remember? Those androids are toast!" Bulma declared, holding the damp cloth up victoriously.

Defeated, Dr Briefs closed his eyes, "If you say so…" He honestly couldn't comprehend why his daughter had so much faith in that boy; after all he'd put her through. "…But I'm not happy about it." He turned around and sauntered off, back into the house.

The words that her dad left her with were unfamiliar. Never did her father sound so disappointed, but didn't he know what sort of person she was? He still didn't understand? She was forever ambitious, adventurous, and courageous. Why should anyone try to take that away from her? She rolled her eyes, turned around towards Bunny and Trunks and laughed when she saw all the cream that had been smeared liberally across Trunks' face. She wanted to go over to him and clean him up, but the oil on her hands told her otherwise. She looked at her little hover jet and grinned again, thinking of the adventure ahead. Trunks' first adventure…It was so exciting!

She had promised that she'd take the jet out for a quick drive, that way, if there was anything wrong with it she had six days to figure it out and fix it. No problem. It was only the early afternoon and with the summer approaching, there was plenty of daylight to fit a little cruise into the day. Yes, she'd fly around the countryside for an hour or so and then come back with a firm set of results in mind. Again, she turned to look at her mother, "Mom, can you watch Trunks for an hour? I'm just going to take this thing for a drive," she said sweetly, while tapping the bonnet with the palm of her hand and leaving an oily imprint.

Usually, Bulma had Trunks with her at all times, so giving Bunny the opportunity to baby sit would be like giving honey to a bee. Bunny's eyes widened and she smiled beautifully, "Why, of course, dear! Be careful!" She quickly turned towards Trunks and began to babble in some obscure language that only he seemed to interpret and respond to.

Bulma shook her head and smiled, picking up the damp cloth and wiping her hands on it, before dropping it to the floor again, alongside her tool box; concluding that her hands were clean enough. Swiftly, she opened the roof and climbed in, switching on the ignition and eventually taking off in to cloudless sky.

Trunks watched the jet in awe, his bright blue eyes gazing at the red and white exterior. When it zipped off into the distance, he squinted, trying his hardest to prolong the image of the thing that had taken his mother. Just when little bubbles of tears were about to form in his eyes, something else deterred him from crying. Soon after his mother had disappeared, he saw that man, flying through the sky and heading the same direction. He blinked the tears away and replaced his sadness with confusion, but his confusion soon switched in to sheer joy when Bunny's face appeared right in his line a vision with a huge glob of cream on the tip of her nose.

A vast canopy of green was beneath Bulma as she flew steadily through the sky. She was hovering low enough to absorb the scenery and all its beauty. Everything was so green; the trees and hills for miles and miles, and tranquil too. There wasn't a person in sight. She'd picked the spot carefully and decided to circle around it until she found a decent place to stop and rest for a bit. Half an hour had past and the jet had gotten her a good forty miles from home, which was excellent timing for something she'd merely whipped up in a couple of days.

She swooped down low when she saw an opening within the cluster of trees and she carefully lowered herself down and beneath the canopy to land. Once the whir of the engine had ceased and the utterances and light fluttering of leaves blowing on their branches was heard, Bulma lifted up the roof and climbed out of the jet. As soon as her foot hit the wax of the long grass, she felt at complete ease, sighing in contentment and making her way through the mass of trees and other vegetation. She had no idea what she had planned to do here, but as soon as she began to hear the trickling of water, she knew she had to follow it until she reached her new goal.

The sun was piercing through the flesh of the trees, gracing her with gentle warmth and adding flecks of illumination to her porcelain skin. She waded through the branches, treading on discarded twigs which the trees could no longer carry, and sinking into the damp, mossy ground as she grew closer to the desired destination. Then, as she pulled back a grotesque looking branch, she saw it - a small stream, accompanied by a grass verge and bordered with clumps of blue bells, basking in the faint sunlight. For a second, Bulma thought she might have strode into a dream land, somewhere too far beyond the conscious imagination, but as she pinched her forearm and felt the sharp sting - she knew it real.

The flourished scene was too tempting to simply capture through a single image, she had to feel it, smell it…She sniffed the air. It smelled like damp compost and a slight sweet twinge of apples. Gracefully walking over to the edge of the grass verge, she took off her pumps, sat down and dipped her feet into the cold water. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, trying to burn the moment into her memory, because, hey, there was a chance that the world may no longer exist in a week or so. Every sound was perfect. There were different birds calling out to one another, some sounded as if they were hopping from tree to tree above her head, whilst others sounded as if they were pattering across the grass alongside her.

The cool current flew over her ankles, quickly driving down the stream on an everlasting journey. Just like she was. Whatever was happening – or happened – in her life was for a specific reason and she accepted it and carried on because that's what she was meant to do. Keep moving. Never stop. And _never _regret.

Bulma opened her eyes again and took another look at what was in front of her. On the other side of the stream, there was a large rock, half of its face covered in lime green mould. Beside it was a small white flower, shimmering in the sunlight, and beside the flower, hovering aimlessly, was a giant bee, buzzing its monotone buzz over the sound of the stream. Bulma noted to take Trunks to this place sometime. He'd love to see all the little creatures and feel all the different textures the outdoors had to offer.

The cracking of a twig snapping prompted Bulma to flinch, but with enough self-restraint, she kept her eyes focused on the bee as it edged closer to the glowing flower. There was two guesses what or who was behind her. Either it was an animal, like a dear of some kind (and hopefully not some blood thirsty beast) or it was Vegeta (who was quite blood thirsty, all the same). But as she heard heavy footsteps treading closer towards her, she could point who it was.

But why?

She bit her lip and kicked up a few bits of debris from the bed of the stream, allowing the small bits of shell and dirt get caught between her toes. Anything to keep herself from breathing heavily or suffering from a heart attack. Why had he followed her? She was so happy to finally find a bit of peace and quiet and now he shows up. Even despite him telling her to stay away from him – which she had. Now _he_ had come to _her? _

"It can't be a coincidence, you showing up here," she said, her shoulders low and her feet splashing lightly in the water.

By now, the bee had made its way to the sweet flower and was, she guessed, lapping up all the nectar it could get. She smiled, then realised she hadn't received an answer, but there was no way she was going to give in and show him any attention. With her eyes glued to the bee, she watched it as it backed out of the flower, hovered over it in a bit of struggle and then take off in her direction. It flew past her, narrowly missing her nose by a few inches and carried on buzzing in that direction. She turned around and followed it, only to see the bee being dramatically shooed away by the mighty hand of the 'Prince of all Saiyans'.

Vegeta was grimacing and clawing the air in an attempt to frighten and ward the strange and noisy creature away. God knows what it wanted but he wanted nothing to do with it. It had to be disposed of, but if he blasted it, the woman wouldn't stop whining.

Bulma stifled a laugh with her palm, while lifting her feet out of the water and standing up. Eventually the bee got the message and buzzed away beneath the mass of skeletal branches. Bulma saw Vegeta physically relax, as his shoulders loosened and the lines on his brow faded a touch. But that was all irrelevant. The point was – why was he here? He wanted something. Otherwise he wouldn't bother with her.

She bent down and brushed the bits of grass and algae from her feet, and then snapped back up, noticing Vegeta tapping his foot impatiently.

"Well, go on. Spit it out, already…I have to get back to Trunks," she said and bent down again for her shoes.

Vegeta watched her in amazement. She had changed, indeed. Not just physically. Her attitude towards him had altered. She was still fiery but it was as if she was completely disinterested in him; not even looking at him when she speaks to him. He didn't know whether he was happy with that.

"The boy can wait," he said, watching her balance on one foot as she tried to crush her wet feet into her shoes. Foolish woman. He paid close attention to her ankles. The milky colouring, slipping in to the caramel coloured shoe. Something about them was rather enticing and he felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up. When she lifted her head up and placed both feet firmly to the ground, he frowned and chose to look at a rock on the floor instead.

"Hm,well, hurry up, then. I have things to do y'know." There were many things to do, but she could push them aside for at least another hour. She was more concerned about Trunks being subjected to Bunny's form of entertainment for that long. For all she knew, they were probably still sitting in the garden, only now, Trunks would be asleep while Bunny had cream on her nose and would be cooing to herself.

Vegeta growled at her tone, "and you don't think I have more important things to do, other than waste my time with you?" He glared at her now and Bulma only laughed aloud.

"Oh, get over yourself. You've come here for a reason, now either tell me or go away." She looked up and squinted at the little patch of sun that was aiming at her, "and if I'm not mistaken, you're already a super Saiyan now. What more could you possibly have to do?" Her eyes lowered to his immediately after the words left her mouth.

He scoffed and looked to the side, "there are no limitations to power, foolish woman," he cracked a small smirk, and then folded his arms defensively.

Bulma stared at him for a few moments. He was a super Saiyan. She'd never really had the chance to think about it properly. He _said_ he was a super Saiyan but she had yet to see him transform. That would be a sight, alright. She mulled over the image of him glowing like a God, next to this stream, the water glittering over his skin. There was no way she was still having these thoughts. She had to ask… "Um, ok…Hey, you've been a super Saiyan for a while now, so I'm guessing you're pretty comfortable with it, right?" She began to kick up bits of grass.

The question roused his curiosity and his eyes locked on to hers, trying to read behind her assumptions. Why was she asking such a question? Was she actually interested? Of course she was. Who wouldn't be interested? "What's your point?" he said after a couple of seconds.

Bulmas cheeks flushed red and slowly, she forced her eyes to meet his. At that moment she must have depicted a shy school girl, declaring her crush, but in reality, she was only asking the alien father of her child to show her his super powers. Pretty normal, right?

"Can you…Show me?" she said in almost a whisper, her eyes shining with hope as they glued themselves to his.

Vegeta thought about this. Seriously thought about it. If he showed her – which he wasn't going to – she would be the first being to witness his transformation. Was she worthy of something like that? He didn't want to, but something was pushing him to do it. A voice in the back of his mind was shouting him to show off his power, to make her tremble in awe at his strength and superiority. He wanted her to faint with joy. He wanted her…to want him again. That thought stirred an internal rage, a battle between his mind and his body. He clenched his fists tight and his jaw began to set as he ground his molars together.

The sound of the flowing water, bashing against stones and pebbles, grew louder and hummed in Bulmas ears as she watched Vegeta fight himself, once again. The idea of slapping him was, oh, so tempting. But then his hands opened.

"Why would I want to waste my energy for you?" he said, exhaling through his nose.

That was a good point, Bulma thought. But she had yet to see it and to see it from him would be, well, perfect. "I just wanted to see it up close," she shrugged and began kicking up soil again.

"You couldn't," Vegeta snapped and then shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Because I'd kill you."

Bulma cocked an eyebrow as she watched his stoic mask shift into a frown which resembled a face of concern, "but from a distance?"

"Not at my full power," he clipped. It was true. If he reached his full power, which he, now, wouldn't mind showing her, she would most definitely die from all the concentrated energy in the atmosphere.

Bulma shrugged again, "I don't mind. I just want to see you when you've transformed."

A silence set between them. Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose, while, assumingly, contemplating a plan and Bulma watched idly, biting the inside of her top lip and nipping at the thin flesh.

Suddenly, Vegeta thumbed behind him, his eyes still closed as his conscience struggled. "Stand over there, by that ship."

Bulma looked over his shoulders and saw the shimmer of the body of her ship which was a couple hundred metres away. She could barely see it but judging by the clear tone of authority in Vegetas voice, she guessed he knew that that was a safe enough distance. He knew what he was talking about, after all.

Hesitating for a moment, Bulma looked back at the glossy image of the stream, sunshine and flowers, knowing that in a few minutes, this was all going to be blasted away. Then she jogged past Vegeta and towards her ship, this time allowing branches to smack her on the face, chest and legs.

She reached her ship, colliding with the bonnet, and then spun around only to see branches intertwining and obstructing her view of the Saiyan prince. For what seemed like an eternity, a deadly silence spread itself between them; the trickling of the stream couldn't even be heard any more. For a moment, Bulma thought that he may have taken off, receiving some sort of amusement out of leaving her hanging, but when the ground began to vibrate beneath her feet, she thought otherwise.

A turn of events was occurring as Bulma clung on to one of the wings of her jet. From what was only a mild vibration, soon turned into a minor earthquake/tornado, as branches came flying off trees. Leaves, twigs, stones and the occasional bird came swooping past Bulmas face. All the while, Bulma clung on to the jet, her nails clawing the metal when she felt the front of the jet lift from the ground and then drop back down again repeatedly. Amongst all the destruction, she could hear Vegeta shouting as he pushed himself beyond belief, and just when she was about to scream for him to stop, before her legs leave the ground completely, everything stopped.

The jet cemented itself back into the ground as did Bulma. She would have gawped at the destruction for longer but was completely distracted by the glowing specimen making its way towards her. By now, most of the trees were bare and were just fleshless bones that had been stripped by the intensity of Vegetas power. She gulped involuntarily when thinking what could have happened to her if she was standing just that little bit closer.

She squinted at the God like man, as he made his way closer, but painfully slowly. The glowing aura around him was making it difficult to see his face. Whether he was smirking, frowning or scowling because it had to be one of those three.

Bulma stood aside from her jet, now feeling safe enough to approach him, and as she stepped forward, the aura around Vegeta diminished and he was left clearly visible. Bulma had only seen Goku and that boy from the future from a distance, so she had never really had the chance to study such a marvellous transformation. Now, she was seeing Vegeta as the alien he was. He certainly wasn't human, despite the deceptive outlook. This confirmed it, yet again.

When he was a few steps short of her, she couldn't help but bite her lip to try and stop her mouth from hanging open. He was beautiful. He knew it, of course, but it was true. His hair was almost white and it looked so soft. She stepped close enough so that she could feel the warmth of his body, and she studied him fully; looking right from his feet to his head. He was wearing average human-like clothes; just jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, which contrasted spectacularly with his blonde hair and teal eyes.

Seeing that he made no attempt to discourage her, she took it to her full advantage and reached out a hand to feel his hair between her thumb and forefinger, "oh my God…" she whispered, earning a satisfied smirk from Vegeta.

This was the reaction he was searching for. She was impressed, there was no doubt. "Amazing…" she continued, her blue eyes wide and glued to the section of hair she was caressing.

Unguarded, Vegeta began to relax under her soothing touch, feeling the hairs pulling lightly at the roots and sending waves a contentment through his entire body. For a moment, he watched her and how fascinated she was, still allowing her to weave through his hair with her nimble fingers. Her eyes had never looked so big at this point and they seemed to have changed into the deepest oceanic pools he'd ever seen. He allowed himself to get sucked into her entrancement and slowly, he let his eyes close.

Bulmas chest began to pound as she felt her way through his thick hair, tremulously racking her nails on his scalp with just enough pressure to make him sigh quietly. She had missed this connection. There was definitely a connection between them, but why couldn't he see it? Or maybe he could and that's what frightened him the most. His face was completely relaxed and without any creases or frown lines which only heightened his beauty. Looking at him now, Bulma knew there wouldn't be anyone else. It wasn't possible. Her heart was swelling so much that it only confirmed any feelings which she had tried to bury for so long. It was hopeless. Even after all the hate and trauma. She still loved him.

Discretely, she moved her hand down to stroke his cheek, but was stopped abruptly when his eyes snapped open and his hand roughly clasped around her wrist. Bulma forced back a shriek of surprise as she stared directly into his teal eyes, no longer seeing a calm person beneath them, but something more - something dangerous.

The sun light was gleaming on to his, now, frowning face, as he held on to her wrist; this time she made no attempt to escape. "Whatever you're trying, woman, stop it now," he warned, let go of her wrist and then suddenly, returned back to his original state within a flash.

Bulma blinked consecutively and let her arm drop to her side in defeat, and then she gazed at him, wondering what was going through his complicated brain. Was there any point in trying to find out, anymore?

Vegeta crossed his arms and took a step away from her, as if she had some contagious disease, and then he sighed heavily. "I overheard your conversation with your father." Bulmas eyes narrowed at his words, "And for once I agree with the old fool," Vegeta huffed, awaiting her outrage.

"You were eavesdropping? Don't you know how rude that is?" she was known for having a good earwig herself, but when it came from Vegeta, it was just down right unacceptable.

Regardless of her objections, Vegeta continued, "you'll not be needing that jet because you will _not _be there when the androids arrive."

What did he mean, she wasn't going to be there? Was he planning something evil that she should know about, or was he playing the role of her father and telling her what to do? "Um, since when did you tell me what I can and can't do?" She placed her hands on her hips and waited patiently for his response, but the prince merely scoffed.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Now he was glaring at her with such intensity that she could feel her skin burning with anticipation. The harshness of his vocal bashings was far more than she could handle. Never had anyone had the guts to speak to her the way he did and get away with it.

She pointed towards him, "no, I'm not stupid, jerk!" She rolled her eyes, "and what about your promise?" Vegetas eyes widened with amusement at the word.

"What promise? I don't make promises to anyone, especially not you," he hissed and then guffawed.

Dejected, Bulma's voice croaked a little and her heart began to crash into her rib cage again. "Uh-yeah, you did. You said you'd keep us safe," she said sheepishly, behind a confident exterior.

He continued to laugh, and then ragged his hand through his hair, "oh, you must be joking, woman! I didn't say anything of the sort!" Why would she say such a ludicrous thing? To think, she had known him for over three years, now and she still could determine the explicit aspects of his personality - he didn't give a shit about most things.

Bulma winced at the sound of all the twigs snapping beneath Vegetas feet as he began to pace back and forth with rage. She felt the tears welling in her eyes but did not want to let them go and let him see how much damage he is doing to her. She was pretty sure what he had said those five months back, so why was he denying it? A man of pride – yeah right. She balled her fists, "yes, you did. You said-"

"Enough of this!" he screamed as his clenched his fists at his side and stopped pacing. "Let me correct you, human. I said, once the androids are destroyed, you'll be safe…And I _will _destroy them," He clarified to her and maybe to the doubt that was settling in the back of his mind.

Confused and hurt, Bulma pressed his anger further, now unconcerned about the disconcertment she was feeling, "then _why _are you so concerned whether I go or not?"

"You'll get in my way," he sighed, warily. He couldn't spend more than a moment with this woman without wanting to break her neck. That's what he could do. Break her neck and get it all over with. That way, he'd be able to get on with his life without her and her hindrance of a child.

"No, I won't," she chided. She wasn't even planning on seeing him. All she wanted to do was see her friends off before they fight. That was it. Why couldn't she do that?

His eyes met hers again, "this is my battle. I don't want you _or _your idiot friends there."

"This is everyone's battle." She placed her palms out in front of her, "this is the fate of the planet we're talking about, here."

Truthfully, Vegeta didn't want her there or anywhere near because he knew she would distract him. Just knowing that she was close would deter him from the importance of the fight. One slip and it could be over.

He stood inches away from her, "if you get in the line of fire, don't even think for _one second_ that I'll protect you…That is one promise I'm willing to make."

Bulma gulped, the close proximity was overwhelming and his words crashed together to become something incoherent to her ears. "I – wasn't expecting you to."

She took a proud step back, crossing her arms and taking a stand. He didn't have _that_ much control over her. "I can handle myself, Vegeta. I don't need you or anybody telling me what to do. I think you're forgetting who you're talking to, here-"

"A fucking idiot," he sneered and shrugged.

"Excuse me?" Bulma gawped.

"I think you heard me clear enough." If being civil with her wasn't going to work, then he had to try plan B – be himself.

Bulma shrugged indifferently, "say what you like. I'm going tomorrow. I'm not missing out on the action."

"You're not," he said sternly as they locked eyes.

"Don't tell me what to _do_!" Bulma squeezed her fists so tight that it felt like the skin around her knuckles was going to split open.

Vegeta squared up to her, imitating her pose and pointing a finger towards the ground. The thought of killing her was becoming too tempting for him to bear. If he did it quickly, there would be no squeals and less hassle for both of them. "I'll say what I like, and you'll fucking listen, _woman_!"

As the words left him, Bulma spun around and lifted up the roof of the jet, ready to leave, but before she did she left him a few words.

"No, I won't. I'm sick of listening and conforming to you. Three years I've had to put up with your shit. You know what? I'm glad you're leaving me and Trunks 'cause I wouldn't want _my _son growing up thinking that the way you act is fine." She exhaled calmly without looking at the death glare Vegeta was giving her, and she climbed into the jet.

Vegeta's face was turning crimson as he tried to conceal his hatred towards this woman and of course, tried not to kill her.

With one hand on the ignition and one on the roof, Bulma finally narrowed her eyes at him, scrutinising him with the up most skill. "You may think you're fearless and powerful" He glared at her as she shook her head with distaste, "but you're the biggest coward I know." Bulma quickly lowered the roof, set the ignition and took off into the sky, leaving Vegeta to watch her hover off into the distance.

Just when she was out of rage, a surge of anger wrapped its way around his body and he screamed, unleashing a large ball of lightening ki into the sky. She was lucky she left when she did, otherwise he was certain she'd be dead by now.

A coward. A _coward_?

He was a lot of things, yes, but not a _coward_. How…dare she. He couldn't deal with this so close to the androids arrival. This is why he was avoiding her in the first place.

What was she doing to him?

Exhausted, he sat himself down on to the bed of broken branches and looked up at the cloudless sky, sniffing the air filled with singed wood.

* * *

><p>The baby monitor was whirring away alongside the increasing hostility of Trunks' wailing. Bulma spun over in her bed and looked at the flashing red numerals of her alarm clock – 2:03. Urgh, she thought as she rolled off her bed and smacked the floor, completely intentionally, of course. Trunks seemed to be crying his eyes out a lot recently. There had to be an underlying reason why he would go from being the quietest baby alive to the one with the most violent cries known to man.<p>

Walking over to the chair by her dresser, she threw on her night gown and began to shuffle towards Trunks' room, hoping to God that he'll quieten down quickly this time. She'd found that he'd tried to escape several times and that he'd chewed through the wooden bars of his crib, so she had to invest her time in creating a metal crib for him instead. It really was a prison for him now, but he had to learn to sleep on his own. Most nights she'd give in and let him sleep with her, and most nights his bawling seemed indefatigable. He had to grow accustomed to sleeping on his own. In a couple weeks he will be a year old. It was best to start the discipline early because even though Trunks was young, he knew damn well when he was being naughty.

By the time she opened Trunks' bedroom door, he had stopped crying and was sniffling back to sleep. That's when she squinted through the darkness of his room to see that the balcony door had been left open again. She should have guessed. Every time Vegeta sticks his stupid face in front of her baby, it makes him cry. Man, that guy needed to make his mind up. A couple months back, she walked in just to check on Trunks and Vegeta was leaning against his bedroom wall, just watching over him.

She tightened her dressing gown and paced over to shut the balcony door when, to her surprise, she saw Vegeta on the balcony, leaning against the railings and looking up towards the sky. What surprised her most was what he was wearing. It was the Saiyan replica armour which she had made for him during her pregnancy - the one which she had given him for Christmas. She smiled inwardly, assuming he subtly wanted to speak to her about something. Otherwise he would have disappeared by now. She gently slid the door shut and approached him.

Standing a few feet away from him, she placed her arms on the balcony railing for support, and looked up at the sky also; seeing that the sky was overloaded with clouds and nothing more. What's he looking at? The intensity of his gaze intangible and all she found herself doing was staring at him.

The armour looked good on him. It suited him well. Just another one of her remarkable inventions.

The silence was chipping away at Bulmas sanity and she couldn't help but break it, "I see you opened your present, after all," she said, now staring ahead into the darkness, and being able to make out the outlines of trees and small buildings close by.

A rubbery squelching sound was tickling Bulmas ears and she cocked her head to the side to see Vegetas gloved hands, grasping on to the railings as if he was in some sort of pain; yet his calm features said otherwise. Even though there were no stars in the sky, Vegetas face seemed to be illuminated somehow. His God like presence was always striking. He was definitely royalty.

Thinking back to their earlier argument, Bulma frowned, still watching his hands intently. Despite thinking he had no control over her; here she was again, waiting for him to say something to her, like a love struck puppy. Maybe the silence was better, though. And why was he dressed up anyway? Was he going somewhere? All the burning questions she wanted to ask him but had to keep them bottled away because he was too temperamental. Then a thought arose.

"Vegeta…" she said softly, dropping one arm to her side and leaning closer to him. Vegeta quickly glanced at her, acknowledging her presence and then just as quickly looked back up at the sky. "…I'm not going the day the androids arrive," Bulma said, disheartened, and unbeknown to Vegeta, with her fingers crossed behind her back.

"Good," Vegeta uttered, shooting her a glance again.

She looked at his attire again, scanning the intricacies of her design and subliminally noting for anything that was out of line. Nope, it was perfect.

"Are you leaving soon?" she had to ask him that one question and thankfully, he didn't blow up, rather, he nodded slowly in response, "oh."

Again, he glanced.

A throb in Bulmas heart began to pain her again, as she watched him confirm his departure. A pain for her and Trunks. Impetuously, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, to which he allowed to linger there. "Look after yourself, ok?" she whispered. Then he shrugged her off and sneered.

"You concern is pointless."

He hated that she still cared for him. This woman was such an... enigma. He had to force himself not to look her way. It would only worsen the situation. He didn't intend on seeing her again after this, but thought it best to let her know he was going.

Bulma shrugged and smiled, "someone has to care about you."

"You're wasting your time," Vegeta grunted, his tone laced with a hint of poison.

Bulma rolled her eyes, "I can handle you leaving, Vegeta, but if you get hurt or die-"

"I've died before – It won't happen again," He said too casually.

"I hope not," Bulma sighed and let her shoulders slump.

In his time, Vegeta had faced many opponents but this woman was something out of the ordinary. She was his most relentless enemy yet. Her concern for him was unyielding, regardless of how he spoke to her or treated her. It was bewildering. And overwhelming. And for once, he could hear his own heart beating, and that's when he knew he had to leave.

He had a great battle ahead of him. Something which will determine the rest of his life. He planned to do it alone, without Bulma and without the boy.

Without looking at her, he walked to the other side of the balcony and bent his knees a little. "Wait, you're going now?" Bulma intervened, her voice outlined with panic.

Vegeta stopped and turned towards her, cocking an eyebrow and awaiting whatever it was she had to say now…Which was nothing. She was just staring at him intensely. Now facing her, he could see that she was as radiant as always, in nothing but a silk dressing gown and whatever she had underneath; it was a mystery he would have to leave unsolved.

She sighed, and then composed herself, standing with her back straight and her chin pointing upwards slightly. "Good luck," she nodded at him, her eyes awaiting his reply. Vegeta took a step back, undecided whether to give her the satisfaction of him accepting her concern.

He frowned, nodded lightly, turned around and took off, leaving a trail of blue energy behind him.

A silence settled itself while Bulma stared at the tiny streak of light in the sky until it disappeared. She uncrossed her fingers and crossed her arms over her chest. Three years it had been. She had lived the majority of it with an arrogant Saiyan and his perpetual demands. She had carried his child and given birth to a beautiful baby – with who Vegeta had rejected. Although, she knew there was a soft spot in that dark Saiyan. Would she be the only one to know of it? Was she the only one to hold on to his secret?

She smelled the air around her – clear and fresh – leaving her open minded.

She had next week to look forward to, meeting all her friends again and surprising them with Trunks. Yeah, that was the plan. She didn't intend on seeing Vegeta again. Did she?

There was always hope.

-**The End-**

* * *

><p>AN – Well, that's it for my first fanfic – I hope I didn't disappoint. Those of you who have accompanied me on this journey, I want to say a massive thank you. You have inspired me to carry on writing 'til the end, even when all hope was lost, lol. I can't thank you enough :)

As always – thanks for reading and until next time ; )


End file.
